A Past and a Future
by fantasymonk
Summary: Past events have earned the attention of someone from Logan's past. Will the safety of the school be jeopardized? And does Logan really want to remember? Rated T for the completed work, which will have violence and, in all likelihood, some strong language.
1. A Past and a Future pt 1

A Past and a Future

Never thought I'd have another X-men story in me, but I got bitten by a persistent muse and am slowly hashing it out. My usual MO is to only post a complete story, but I thought I'd upload this intro chapter just to let people know I live. The story takes place after "To Save a Wolverine", so to understand what happened before this, you need to read it first. On with the show!

x_X_x

The young man standing before a large oak desk was looking fidgety, tugging slightly at the collar of his camouflage fatigues that looked like they came from a surplus store. He had no rank on the material, just a small name patch on the front with 'Carter' on it and the letters AAM on his left arm. In spite of the cool air inside the room, he was sweating slightly at the temples, intimidated by the man watching him closely from the leather desk chair that resided behind the desk. The young pilot had heard about this group, good things about how they researched ways to handle and control mutants. His group's commander, Kinley, had been a great admirer. Before he died. Before he was killed… by that son of a b-…

"My sergeant tells me you have information regarding a mutant hideout." The smooth voice interrupted his thoughts, jerking attention back to the man he'd come to see. Carter swallowed before continuing.

"Yes sir. We had planned an attack on it, but what we encountered was even more than we had expected. I'm the only one who made it out of the operation. Even our commander was…" He stopped suddenly, looking regretful at how AAM's numbers had been decimated during a carefully planned mission forced into early action. The man interviewing him waited patiently enough on the outside, but inwardly he was seething. This low-level, low class soldier wannabe had been putting the word out that he had intel on a powerful group of mutants he'd encountered while carrying on the fight against inhumanity. Oh, he'd heard of the group called Americans Against Mutants but, in his opinion, they were just another fanatic group without the real knowledge or wherewithal to do what needed to be done. Granted, the support they'd received from certain scientists over the past months was slightly above standard, but paled in regard to his own efforts and progress. It was with growing impatience that he watched the young pilot fidget and twitch under his gaze. After all, whatever financial backing AAM had received before had dried up, according to his sources. They had nothing to offer him, nothing at all.

"It's all right son, tell us what happened," he said, sure that the story would be short and fruitless. Might as well get this over with so he could go about more important matters. Carter nodded and seemed to gain a little courage.

"I was piloting the main chopper on the mission. We'd followed the signal of a tracker implanted in a captured mutant, and made it there in time to recon before dark. All seemed quiet enough as the units converged on the large mansion. But then through the radios we heard terrible things, screams and gunfire… shouts." He swallowed again, eyes wide. "I stayed my position, ready to come in for extraction if needed, when Commander Kinley radioed with great urgency, telling me to meet him on the roof, that he was being pursued. Not much later at the rendezvous point I saw him burst through the rooftop door, running like the devil himself was after him. Maybe that's true, because about three seconds behind was a man, I'm assuming a mutant. He had chased the commander up to the roof and seemed intent on murder. Commander Kinley managed to jump to the 'copter and get inside, but that mutie jumped too and grabbed hold of us somehow, probably the strut. We dipped sharply and the commander fell out, grabbing onto that mutant. Scary bastard, that one, sir. He actually committed suicide just to get to our leader. I saw them dropping to the ground below as I lifted off. It was the strangest thing… He was holding knives in his hands as he fell. I could see them glinting in the lights of the mansion grounds. Three thin blades in each hand." The statement had a profound effect on the man behind the desk, who sat forward abruptly, eyeglasses gleaming briefly under the fluorescent lighting. "But he's dead now, at least, along with Commander Kinley," the young pilot continued, oblivious to the sudden interest in his story as he stared down at the carpeted floor. The man behind the desk gestured toward his second, a man standing at-ease to his left.

"Sergeant Lyman, ready a briefing in two hours. I want all commanding personnel in on this." The tall soldier at his command nodded briskly and left the room. "Now, please continue. Where did you say this mansion was located?" he asked the startled pilot in front of him. Something to offer him, indeed… Fingers absently moved to straighten the nameplate on his desk that bore the name 'William Stryker'.


	2. A Past and a Future pt 2

Logan jogged quickly between trees and brush, clad in worn sweatpants and a sweatshirt while working on keeping up his stamina and agility. The thin material was soaked through in places with hard-earned sweat, but the exertion was welcome. He needed to be out in the fresh air, having been cooped up in the mansion for the past few weeks while helping Storm with Danger Room sessions and various odd jobs around the school. Granted, spending time with his favorite 'weather-witch' was never a burden, but too many hours on-end inside the school always left him feeling a little claustrophobic. Logan's musings were interrupted by a sudden chill going up his spine, making him come to an abrupt halt. What was it people said? Like someone had walked over your grave. The feral mutant snorted to himself at the thought, taking the opportunity to stretch a little. He should be so lucky. The mansion grounds were as beautiful as ever, the slight coolness in the morning air feeling good to his heated skin, and Wolverine took a rare moment to just enjoy being where he was with no one to fight and nothing to worry about. There was peace, birdsong, and animal sounds in the distance, while just out of sight he could hear voices and laughter from the school, the backdrop one of complete rightness. The gentle breeze shifted, blowing refreshingly into his face as his eyes closed, but they snapped open quickly. The hell…? The smell of guns and persons unknown filled his nostrils, making him shake his head and growl softly. Now what? And more importantly, why always him? Logan cast the entirety of his senses out then, eyes sharp, ears straining. His claws slid out readily as he began to take a step, only to stop as a group of soldiers advanced on him from behind a thick grove of trees. The ever-present anger bubbling below the surface came to him, filling up his mind and making everything seem sharper, clearer. He grinned, teeth bared in a wolfish snarl, welcoming the sight of automatic rifles being aimed his way. Pain would only feed his strength, and the Wolverine took several threatening steps toward the intruders.

"What are you waiting for? Go ahead and shoot!" he growled, brandishing deadly claws threateningly.

"Don't shoot! Not yet…" A smooth voice derailed his rage, something eerily familiar about it. He felt a sense of longing and discomfort all at once and stopped still, barely noticing as the group of soldiers began to cluster in a semicircle around him. All of his senses were focused on the uniformed man who came to stand in front of him. "Wolverine…. My, my. It's been years, about fifteen or sixteen, right?" Adamantium blades slowly withdrew, hazel eyes locked on the other's gaze with confusion creasing his brow. "You haven't aged a bit, son. I'll wager you can't say the same for me." A chuckle, the stranger's countenance only revealing an ease and familiarity that Logan wished he could reciprocate. Did this man know him…?

"Who are you?" The words were spoken with less heat than intended, Logan's voice hoarse as he tried to place the face. Short-cropped graying hair, glasses, a well-groomed goatee; not a face that would blend into a crowd. That chuckle came again, as if they were two old friends sharing an inside joke.

"Don't you remember? Don't wound an old compatriot by saying you've forgotten all the time we served together." The solicitous look he was given made Logan's mind reel. Wait, what?

"I don't understand. You… know me?" The other man nodded, hands spreading out in a soothing gesture.

"I know the procedure wasn't easy, but you must remember something. It was your choice, after all." Logan felt as if his world had tilted, like he could fall over at any second from sheer vertigo. Not only for the fact that this stranger knew what had happened to him, but also the statement that the entire affair was of his own free will. What could he have been thinking? What could have been so important that he would let scientists use his mutation for such a dangerous and painful experiment? Logan was caught between the instinct of attacking the group of uninvited soldiers and the need to find out more. His mind refused to believe it, but some deeply buried part of him felt that this was not so surprising. "Do we need to go back to the lab? Do you need to see the place it happened?" Wolverine's eyes snapped up to meet the other man's, not noticing that several of the soldiers flanking him held tranq guns in their hands, likely holding very strong doses of something not readily available to the public.

x_X_x

Charles Xavier had a moment of peace to himself during the beautiful day, and was enjoying it immensely with a fine cup of tea. Being the weekend, the students were engaged in pursuits both studious and carefree. He could hear some of the younger ones laughing outside, and knew several of the older gifted children were busy plowing through essays or watching a movie together in the rec room. The pleasant atmosphere gave his voice an audible tinge of contentment as he responded to the sudden knock on his office door.

"Come in." Jean Grey's hair seemed to catch fire in the light coming from the windows, her face carrying a slight smile at seeing her mentor so at ease.

"Professor, Scott just finished the diagnostics on the jet and all adjustments have been made. Are you catching a rare break from grading papers?" she teased. He laughed, eyes twinkling. They both loved being educators, seeing young minds blossoming under instruction and encouragement. The fact that their students were often misunderstood and in great need of their aid only added to the satisfaction.

"All work and no play…" he quipped, taking another sip of the gently steaming brew cradled by the teacup he held. Before he could prepare himself, a sudden sense of urgency flashed into his consciousness, causing his hand to tremble and sending a splash of tea onto the desk. The telepath's eyes closed, casting out for the source of his mind's worry and encountering a tide of Logan's thoughts. Jean watched with concern as Charles withdrew into himself without warning, knowing his powerful mind must have come into contact with something troubling. When the professor's blue eyes opened again, they were anxious, startlingly so. "Jean, Logan is in danger. I'll send a call to Scott and Ororo as well, but you must hurry." The redheaded doctor was so used to responding quickly when needed that it didn't even occur to her to pause or ask questions as to how Wolverine could possibly be in danger on school grounds. She just raced out of the room toward the location revealed in her mind, knowing the other members of the X-men were doing the same. The professor wheeled his chair to the window and stared out as if he could see their wildest team member across the distance. Whatever Logan had encountered had just started, leaving the feral mutant's thoughts jumbled and confused; Charles only hoped his X-men could get there in time.

x_X_x

Stryker smiled gloatingly to himself as he watched the Wolverine try to gather his thoughts, no longer a threat to his unit while attempting to process a sudden trip into memories he couldn't access anymore. The mission was going to be a resounding success, no doubt about that. In mere moments his men would subdue the Wolverine and he would be taken back to where he belonged, where he never should have left in the first place. For his part, Logan was more off balance than ever. His usually keen sense of self-preservation was failing him when confronted with the absolute _want_ , the longtime desire to know where he had come from, who he was, and what exactly had happened to him. He felt a trickle of sweat move down his spine, hazel eyes staring with confusion at the stranger-yet-not-stranger, knowing that face, but unable to fill the blank.

"The lab…? Where is it?" he asked, unable to keep a hint of pleading from his voice. All of his senses were closed now in shock, the instinctive sixth sense that helped guide him shut down by fear and need. He didn't see the solder to his right raising a tranq gun, readying to aim and fire at the helpless mutant they were surrounding. The action was never fulfilled as a beam of red energy slammed into the soldier and knocked him down, sending the rest scattering in retreat, the commanding stranger along with them. "No!" Logan shouted helplessly, senses flooding back to him as time seemed to move once more, ears filled with shouts and gunfire, the smell of heated metal as bullets kept the X-men from advancing further. He could only watch in stunned disbelief as his friends came to give aid, aid he hadn't asked for, and his only glimpse into the past was disappearing back into the trees, multiple motors starting and indicating a full retreat. Scott didn't engage the enemy further, their only mission having been to protect Logan, but he glared at the tree line from inside his visor, wishing they could follow the soldiers and dissuade them more effectively. Still, the objective had been achieved, no thanks to Wolverine, who had amazingly stood there like a statue with no attempt to protect either the school or himself. Seeing soldiers on the school grounds had shaken Cyclops, bringing memories of the last attack on the school. It could be understood if Scott was feeling a little more emotional and a little less understanding than usual when he rounded on Logan.

"What were you thinking? Never mind, you weren't thinking." He scoffed slightly. "How could you just stand there, Logan? Don't the children matter to you?! What if those soldiers had decided to take you out and stroll on down to the school?" Scott was glad Logan was okay, but damn it, the feral mutant was considered a mansion 'guard dog' of sorts, and he'd done the equivalent of rolling over and showing his belly. Wolverine shook his head slowly, finally hearing Scott's words through the fog that clouded his thoughts.

"He knew me…" Logan's voice was soft, not the usual brash bravado to be expected after a scolding from the X-men's leader. Scott was startled into brief silence, but only for a second. He and Jean shared a glance, Ororo behind them and silently watching the exchange with a touch of sympathy on her face.

"Who?" Jean's voice was far gentler than Scott's had been, but she also felt shaken by the older mutant's lack of action. What had happened out here?

"Stryker," came Logan's response, still in that quiet manner that felt so foreign in the confident Canadian. The name had come without thinking, a flash of some fragment of memory that he couldn't fully catch hold of.

"Who is this Stryker?" Scott asked, thinking perhaps they could get some information about this new group who seemed interested in their school. Logan couldn't seem to make himself look any of them directly in the eye.

"I wish I knew…"


	3. A Past and a Future pt 3

Previously, on A Past and a Future:

" _Stryker," came Logan's response, still in that quiet manner that felt so foreign in the confident Canadian. The name had come without thinking, a flash of some fragment of memory that he couldn't fully catch hold of._

 _"Who is this Stryker?" Scott asked, thinking perhaps they could get some information about this new group who seemed interested in their school. Logan couldn't seem to make himself look any of them directly in the eye._

 _"I wish I knew…"_

x_X_x

Three pairs of shocked eyes stared at him, but Ororo was the one who spoke first.

"If you can't completely remember him, does it mean this man might be connected to your past?" she asked, dark eyes still full of sympathy for their feral friend. She could understand how he must be feeling, suddenly confronted by a link to what had been only to lose it soon after. Storm was perhaps more empathetic than the others on the team, wishing only to understand and comfort as Logan gazed down at his hands silently, rubbing the fingers of his left hand over over the knuckles of his right. The other man's reticence only annoyed Scott further.

"Logan, this is serious. We need to tell the professor and see what he can find out." Hazel eyes lifted finally, a touch of bitterness in them as he met the shorter man's gaze.

"Chuck hasn't been able to tell me much about my past up to now, I doubt that's gonna change any time soon." He huffed, feeling a sudden need to get away from the conversation and take a shower, followed by a few stiff drinks and a cigar. "You tell him what you want, I'm… done here." Both hands cut through the air sharply in a frustrated gesture before he turned and headed back to the mansion at a distance-eating run, unwilling to talk about it anymore. Scott shook his head, arms crossed.

"Typical Logan. Try to rationalize and discuss, and he runs off." Jean chuckled softly at the bit of truth in the words, her attitude reflecting relief that the incident hadn't turned out worse, but Ororo frowned. Yes, their teammate tended to be less on the analytical side, but he was certainly no fool.

"Scott, can't you see he's just tired? Not physically, but emotionally. Not knowing where he's been, or what he's done… It eats at him." Of course, she couldn't know what was going through his mind when seeing some stranger who supposedly knew him, but obviously he was deeply affected, as evidenced by the complete loss of his ability to react in any way. "Let's just give him some time, okay? We'll update the professor, and let Logan come to us." Jean put a hand on her fiancée's shoulder and nodded her approval of that idea, making Scott sigh, a sound of reluctant agreement.

"All right, I suppose a day or two couldn't hurt. But I want to know what they were after; we don't need a repeat of last year."

x_X_x

Logan entered the school at the same rate of speed he'd headed toward it, glad there weren't many kids to dodge in the hallways as he jumped up several stairs at a time heading up to the wing that held his room. He finally came to a stop, catching his breath as he opened the door and went inside as if retreating from the outside world, leaning against the solid wood on the inside with his forehead against the cool surface. Just needed some time to think… His thoughts whirled as he stripped the sweaty workout clothes off and tossed them into a laundry bin, relishing the feel of air cooling his sweat-dampened body. Straight into the bathroom then to start the shower running, aiming for a temperature just above lukewarm to try and clear his head and calm his temper down. As he stepped in and began cleaning up, Logan tried to process what had just happened. He knew the man, certainly, since he now had a name to go with a face. But there were no memories at all. His gut feeling was one of unease, but… this guy knew him. Knew what had happened. That was precious information, tempting beyond belief, enough to override his normal sense of caution. Logan sighed, conflicted no matter how he thought about it. He had a duty to the people there at the school, not only to the kids but his teammates, his friends. This revelation, however, made him want to run again, go out and find someone who knew this Stryker and gain whatever information he could. Could he really do that? Surely they could understand his feelings, right? Although, Marie would want him to stay, that was certain. The girl was his first real friend he could remember, and she was just as attached to him. Hazel eyes closed as he stood under the water, letting the soapsuds sluice down his body for a minute. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to talk with Charles, at least on a personal level; he'd have a better idea of what to do. The professor was usually adept at analyzing a course of action, and since they'd had no luck with leads on his past 'til now, this new one could be helpful. But first, he was going to indulge in a cigar and something stronger than beer. Course of action decided, Logan stepped out of the shower and dried himself off before heading back into his room to pull on fresh jeans, faded and perfectly soft from years of wearing, a close-fitting white tee shirt, and a forest green button-up shirt which would of course remain unbuttoned. He rolled the sleeves up comfortably and sat on the edge of his bed, wiggling his toes in the rug there while reaching for the bottle of whiskey hidden inside his nightstand. Logan was allowed a few indulgences while in the school that would allow him to frequent bars less often, and he was grateful to Charles for the understanding. Not that a bar was out of the question, because sometimes he just needed to let off steam, but it let him stay in the place he considered home on a more regular basis than if he were heading out every night. Logan took a few gulps directly from the bottle, letting the smooth heat burn down to his stomach. A cigar was pulled from a small box and lit, cheery sunlight coming in through his partially-open window and a breeze flirting over his cheeks. Well, at least there could be contentment for the short term, anyway.

x_X_x

Marie walked down the hall and stopped at Logan's door, listening. She couldn't hear anything, but there was the distinct and fresh smell of a cigar emanating from inside, so he was probably in. She knocked on the door.

"Logan, can I come in?" Her voice was soft and sweet, not being a naturally loud person or one to draw attention to herself, but she knew he would hear. At his invitation to enter, which was pretty much a given on his part when it came to her, the Southern girl stepped inside, not bothering to shut the door since this would be a short visit. Her gaze quickly found Logan sitting on his bed, enjoying two of his preferred vices and she smiled at the sight. The smell of a cigar would always remind her of her favorite gruff Canadian. "Hey, are you busy? I got my homework done and was going to watch a movie. Or we could catch a game instead, if you want." She leaned against the doorframe, casually waiting for his answer. Marie was glad that Logan stayed around the mansion more than he used to, maybe more content with life at the school, or perhaps becoming more accustomed to it. Whatever the reason, she was always happy to indulge in some premium Logan-time. She didn't have to worry about her skin so much with him, and he made her feel almost normal, ruffling her hair or giving her a half hug with one muscular arm as they laughed about something on television or the goofs that naturally happened in a school full of young mutants. Marie watched his lips turn up in a smile as he swallowed his gulp of whiskey.

"Sure, I got time for you darlin'." His deep voice was as strong and rich as the drink he indulged in, the bottle carefully capped and placed inside the nightstand before he stood up. The smoldering stogie was extinguished and left on a heavy glass ashtray for a later time, a long arm reaching for socks and boots. "How about a movie?" This suddenly sounded like a far better way to occupy his time than brooding in his room all alone. "No chick flicks allowed, though," he said with an overly stern look while humor tugged at the righthand corner of his mouth. Marie giggled at his teasing, just shaking her head while latching onto his arm in a silly kind of hug, and Logan mentally thanked whatever deities were out there that Marie was in his life.


	4. A Past and a Future pt 4

Author's Note: Sorry for the big delay in getting this chapter out, but I'd been in the process of transitioning to a new job and was just worrying about getting through things being different and having to re-learn stuff. Thanks for your patience, and I hope this chapter was worth the wait.

x_X_x

The next morning Logan lay drowsing in bed, his front pressed comfortably into the mattress and pillow gripped between two muscled arms. He was awake, but not immediately inclined to move, half-grinning to himself at the memory of his movie time with Marie. She'd been eating from a bowl of popcorn that he would steal from occasionally, her side pressed up against his and cheek snuggled against his cloth-covered arm as they watched an action flick. It was one they both enjoyed, but were familiar enough with to allow for catching up and conversation. During an attempt to catch a kernel midair, Marie misjudged her throw and the fluffy snack ended up lodged in Logan's hair. She'd frozen for a second before giving a stifled, short giggle.

"Oops." Logan raised his left eyebrow at her, obviously more amused than anything, before he plucked the offending object from wild brown strands and popped it into his mouth.

"Gotta work on your aim there, kid," he had teased. It wasn't the norm for the Wolverine to act so unrestrained and playful, but he had it in him. The softer attitude only surfaced around those he felt closest to, which was really just Marie at this point. Not that he didn't like the kids at the school, but none of them respected his space or understood him like she did. Compliments of getting his memories caught in her head not once, but twice, maybe. Logan chuckled softly to himself in bed, stretching long legs and curling toes in that hazy, pleasant warmth of just waking. Thanks to his nice afternoon with Marie that ended in a late supper, his own emotions were calmed significantly, and the idea of talking to Charles was beginning to sound even more logical. One more huge stretch and the feral mutant rolled out of bed, preparing only minutely for the morning by grabbing up his jeans from the day before and the same white tee, although forgoing the green overshirt for light blue plaid flannel instead. Logan figured he'd have a chat with the professor and then grab some breakfast afterward. A shower could wait until later, maybe after a good workout or Danger Room session to wake him up the rest of the way. Plans finalized, Logan finished dressing and left his room in fairly high spirits. The familiar path to Charles' office was navigated on autopilot, with the occasional greeting of a student who was on their way to an early Sunday meet-up. He knew the professor would be in, though, since the man was entirely devoted to his school and the children it helped. Logan had barely stopped in front of the doorway when he was invited to enter by the professor's voice. Hazel eyes did a mental roll at the expected occurrence before he grinned and opened the heavy door.

"Morning Charles." The telepathic mutant nodded in return, taking in the other's good mood.

"Good morning Logan. Would you care for some coffee or tea?" Ever the gentleman, Xavier gestured to a tray on the desk which contained a carafe and teapot, with cups, cream, and a sugar bowl that were standing ready for however a person might take their beverage of choice. Logan shook his head.

"No, thanks. I just wanted to have a word with you." Charles nodded slightly as if this was expected. In truth, he was hoping Logan would come by to see him sooner rather than later after what Scott had reported. He had known their feral friend was in danger, but for it to be the man Stryker… Well, that concerned the telepath a great deal. Logan had seemed to settle in at the school, but this could threaten the stability they had all worked to give him.

"Yes, about the group you encountered early yesterday." Charles sipped some tea. Logan almost snorted in amusement at how confident the other mutant was. Even without using his powers, the professor could always be counted on to prove he was an astute and intelligent person.

"Yeah, kinda. More like just one in particular. This guy who knows me, his name's Stryker, but that's all I've got. I was hoping to try and track down some leads, maybe see if you could open some connections and find something out, too." Charles hesitated slightly, looking down into the amber depths of his tea. As much as he, too, wanted the Wolverine to know about his past, it wouldn't help to have everything thrust at him all at once. Logan's mind would have less strain to deal with if he could find out things bit by bit, and process them slowly.

"That is certainly something we can discuss, but for a later time, perhaps. After this occurrence, I can't help thinking that the security on school grounds should be improved. This was just too close for comfort, don't you agree Logan?" Hazel eyes stared, their owner not sure if he should be feeling dismissed or chastised for not thinking about the school over himself. Although it was likely Charles hadn't even meant it that way, it still stung a little bit. "I thought you and Scott could work on that together, today. It would mean a great deal to me," the professor continued. Logan tried to hide his disappointment and swallowed, giving an abbreviated jerk of his head as reluctant agreement. Great, a whole afternoon with Summers to put a cheery end to his weekend….

x_X_x

Logan practically stalked through the school halls, making his way through the grand foyer and to the front entrance and sitting down on the steps to light a cigar. If he was gonna be stuck with Scott inside, he needed to get a little relaxation in first to bolster himself. Not too far away on the lawn he saw Kitty, Bobby and Jubilee chatting about something, their conversation drifting easily to where he sat, unnoticed.

"I just can't imagine how that felt," Kitty was saying, her chin propped on her fist and something soft and sad touching her expression. The young girl was extremely sensitive sometimes, not about herself but in concern for others, and Logan wondered what had happened.

"Probably kind of crazy," Bobby joined in. "Not knowing if an attack was going to happen, if you'd have to try to make it to the bunker once those sirens started." He gave a slight shiver. "I'm glad I didn't live back then." Ah, some kind of history class discussion, sounded like. Jubilee nodded her agreement.

"Same here. Besides, I don't care much for the fashion they had back then, anyway." Kitty gave an unexpected giggle, the lighthearted comment lifting the serious mood. Logan had a small mental flash of being underground, maybe, in some small hole or something. There were sirens, and the sound of plane engines. He shook his head, clearing the inner vision while he sucked more smoke into his lungs. Sounded like the kids were talking about the nuclear war scare, where bunkers were built in towns to safeguard against the event of such an attack. Logan curled his lip, not happy at the thought of having to hide underground for an extended amount of time. Could he even survive a nuclear fallout? That gave him pause. Possibly? Wouldn't want to find out though. Logan didn't mind being underground, really. After all, he was no stranger to the lower levels of the school. But at least he could always leave when he wanted to. The schoolwork chatter faded into the background as Wolverine became lost in his own thoughts. He'd feel like a prisoner if he couldn't get the chance for fresh air and sunshine, or rain on his face. Prisoner… That brought to mind the nightmares he sometimes had, of being trapped underwater, strapped down to something, in a place lit only with artificial brightness. No windows anywhere, from what he could recall, even in the hallways he dreamed about running through. Just an impression of the need to escape as his lungs burned from the task of fueling his body with enough oxygen while fighting his way out of the tank and up the st…. The stairs. Logan straightened, thoughts focused internally. Wait, stairs? Had the place been hiding another level below the surface? His failed lead at Alkali Lake the year before, when he'd come back feeling defeated and lost… Was it only because he hadn't looked hard enough? Hadn't looked _deep_ enough? Jumping to his feet the feral mutant took off toward his room, all other thoughts flung from his mind except this new revelation as impulsiveness took over. The slight clatter of his boots on the stairs made the three young mutants who had been talking look over, but there was nothing or no one to see anymore. It was dismissed and quickly forgotten as they continued their discussion.


	5. A Past and a Future pt 5

"Has anyone seen Logan? He was supposed to meet me an hour ago!" Scott's abrupt arrival startled Jean and Storm as they sat at the mansion's kitchen island in the middle of what looked like the mother of all cookie preparations. Both women were actively involved, and Jean had even managed to smudge her pert nose with a bit of flour. But Scott was too aggravated to be distracted after having searched the last thirty minutes for his errant security partner. Storm shook her head.

"I haven't, have you Jean?" The redhead responded in a negative as well.

"What's going on Scott?" Her love's mouth twisted slightly.

"Logan should be here helping me work on the school's security, but I can't find any hint of him around. I think he's skipped out to go do something else. He can be so juvenile sometimes…" Storm cocked her head to one side.

"Ah, I remember now Charles mentioning he'd asked Logan to help you with that, but I didn't know when the two of you would be working on it. From what the professor said, Logan had agreed to do it. He doesn't just go back on his word like that…" She sounded thoughtful, but Scott snorted softly. He didn't always think the worst of Logan, but sometimes the man could get on his last nerve, and it showed in his current irritation.

"He might if he could wiggle his way around it for a time. I'm sure it wasn't very high on his list of important things to do." Cyclops' sarcasm was thick enough to cut with a knife, and Storm's eyes pierced the X-men leader.

"I think it was, Scott. Logan was not happy at all about how easily the soldiers managed to get onto school grounds. Once the professor reminded him of that, he was willing to do what it would take to help prevent a reoccurrence. So, if that were the case, and he isn't here now helping you… what has changed since then? What has prevented him from being here?"

x_X_x

Logan easily stood and swung his leg over the cycle he'd been riding, the hushed silence pervading everything after he shut off the rumbling engine. Snow crunched under his boots as he approached the entrance to the Alkali Lake base for a second time, although with even more trepidation than before. Every instinct was screaming at him to leave here and never come back, but whether it was from the horrific memories he had of the place or because of some sense of current danger it was hard to tell. All Logan knew was that he wanted answers. Scott would damn sure be pissed that he'd skipped out on the security chore and taken the other man's prized bike again, but it was the fastest mode of transportation available. He'd just have to face the music when he got back. Right now, Wolverine was more concerned with the cold silence surrounding him, nerves on edge and half ready to show his claws at any moment. He could now remember escaping from the place, running through a door out into the snow, but from where? What little thought residing in his mind back then was so scrambled that it was hard to tell for certain just what he had experienced. Still, wouldn't hurt to do a little recon and look around. Get the lay of the land, so to speak. Breath fogging in the cold air, Logan moved slowly forward and around, circumventing the obvious entrance he'd barely looked into during the first visit, and headed along the border walling the base in. All he could remember was snowy forest, and cold gray sky. If he didn't come out through that entryway, then how? There was nothing but white and bitter cold, the crisp air nipping at his lungs with every indrawn breath as he patrolled the exterior of the base. His leather jacket and layers of clothing only just kept the far northern chill at bay, although his jeans were quickly becoming uncomfortably cold. Logan's shoulders slumped a little, although he kept moving. This couldn't be a dead end, not again, not when he'd actually risked something for this particular trip into memory lane. If he didn't have something to show for it when he returned, it would be almost impossible to face his team. His friends. A flash of something from the corner of his eye caught wandering attention, focused it onto the sight of three slash marks marring the trunk of a tree. He'd been here! Logan's gaze sharpened, finding another, fainter set of claw marks closer to the base wall, and then he stopped short. There on the cold concrete exterior was another three-claw mark, but instead of a full length of slashing, it just ended. Abruptly. A sudden surge of memory struck, staggering the mutant in its intensity. He was pushing the door open, desperate and unbalanced with the feeling of immense heaviness in his body. He slid sideways a little to his right and caught himself on the open doorway. Panting heavily, he braced himself against the cold material, arm muscles bunching with the effort of moving off through the snow. He never noticed how the bared claws of his right hand had cut deep marks into the wall beside the gaping doorway.

Logan shook his head slowly, almost nauseated by the memory. But this was it, this was where he'd escaped! How did the door open? Bare hands moved over the cold, rough surface, but found nothing of note. Sensitive fingertips felt no indicator of a switch or lever and his posture turned dejected. Could it only be opened from the inside? Well screw that. Gleaming metal suddenly protruded from his knuckles, determination filling him. Nothing as inconsequential as a thick slab of concrete was going to stand in his way, and adamantium backed up the thought for him, slicing through the wall like a stick of butter. Once inside, he registered the immediate change in temperature. Not cozy-warm by any stretch, but definitely warmer than an abandoned complex should be, as if residual heat from somewhere was rising to the higher level. It was quiet, but there were definite traces of scent, faint hints of human activity occurring fairly recently mixed with the abundant smell of guns. Could Stryker be here? Logan's pulse quickened, but whether in anticipation or fear he really couldn't say. Wouldn't want to analyze it either, truth be told. Pushing aside the twinge of mental discomfort, he moved forward slowly with hands fisted and claws still at the ready. Without the rustle of leaves and evergreen needles and the crunch of snow, keen hearing picked up a faint whirring sound, a barely audible electric buzz that drew his gaze to a small gleaming device on the wall. Closer examination revealed a tiny security camera, obviously still running. Oh yeah, they had to know he was there. Logan looked back and forth in the hallway, half expecting to see a unit bursting onto the scene. Well, there was such a thing as response time, after all. He continued at a more strolling pace, although the relaxed manner was at odds with the razor-sharp claws that had yet to be tucked back into his forearms. There were multiple hallways branching out from the one he was walking down, but Wolverine didn't see the point in moving around too much and delaying the inevitable. Someone was bound to come and welcome him to their humble abode. Speaking of… his ears picked up the sound of booted feet, the clomping rhythm indicating a good number of bodies were about to meet up with his location. Logan kept his stance relaxed but his forearms tense so the lethal claws remained in sight. No sense in making it _too_ easy, after all.

From several hallways came a multitude of soldiers, all carrying rifles and looking extremely serious in their intent of protecting the base. Not that the guns would do anything against him if he got serious himself, but let them think what they would. He ended up essentially surrounded, or as surrounded as you could be in a hallway, a few of the kids looking nervously at the metal blades protruding from his knuckles. The more experienced among them seemed to take it all in stride. Well, at least they were covering their emotions better. There was a definite blend of nerves and fear coming to his nose from a good number of the soldiers standing in his way, no matter how impassive their expressions. Did they even know who he was? What he could do? Logan stayed still, relaxed. These were the same guys he'd met in the woods back at the mansion, he was certain of it, which meant his stab at this lead had actually come up with something. There was hope after all, and the feral mutant felt his normal confidence renewed at the thought.

"Sorry to invite myself in like this, but the door was open," he said calmly, with a little smirking tilt to his lips, wondering with amusement if his entry-point had been discovered yet. A few looked askance at each other, maybe wondering if he was not all there mentally. Others sneered a little at his cocky attitude, but Logan honestly couldn't care less what any of them were thinking. He was only after one thing. "Where's Stryker?"


	6. A Past and a Future pt 6

Wolverine's arms were crossed as he stared across the table at the man Stryker, meeting the other's gaze without flinching. They were seated in some kind of meeting room, with a large sitting area and an expanse of wall covered with what looked like a flat-screen tv but was probably a touch-screen board, perhaps for presentations. After's Logan's demand to see Stryker, there had been hushed conversations over comm devices that he hadn't bothered to listen in on, and then he'd been led to this room where the man himself was waiting with a welcoming grin. Logan couldn't help feeling a little put off by the other's attitude, as if he had complete control and the upper hand and no worry that either could be taken away. Anybody acting like that really got on his nerves. He refrained from snarling on principle, too interested in finding out about his past to antagonize the possible source of information. Two soldiers stood behind their leader, both in an at-ease stance but still watching the mutant carefully.

"I'm sorry for the reception, Wolverine, but you must admit you made quite the entrance. Literally." That grin was still in place, as if Stryker was trying to get the scowling mutant to join in on the joke, entirely too comfortable being around a man who could kill as easily as breathing. "Still, it's repaired easily enough. What matters is that you're here now." His expression was very pleased, and Logan felt his skin crawl. Enough of the small talk, he wanted answers.

"Stryker, I'm not here to catch up or join up or whatever it is you think I'm here for. I just want to know who I am and where I came from. End of story," Wolverine growled. The other man looked surprised.

"You don't remember anything? That is strange… The procedure seemed to go perfectly." The other's spectacled gaze bored into him. "I'll admit we didn't socialize much, and you weren't one for revealing your life story or anything. But there could still be some files around here." Stryker gestured to a tray of coffee and mugs on the table. "Please, feel free to warm yourself with something to drink. I'll see what I can find." Logan spared a glance at the tray and then dismissed it, not sure he'd trust that the steaming liquid wasn't drugged in some way. Still, he gave a jerky nod and watched as the trio left, glaring at nothing in particular. This whole thing didn't feel right. Stryker was too assured, too confident. The Wolverine's hackles were up but he didn't have anything definitive that could lead to action. He was beginning to regret coming, but there was nothing to do now but wait. At best he could find out something. Anything. At worst… well, if nothing else he could blow off some steam after the days-long motorcycle ride with only a couple of stops for fuel and a bit of food. Keen hearing reached out, senses scanning for any indicator that someone was around. He caught the sound of hidden cameras again, surreptitiously locating one just to the side of the large touch screen as well as hearing another behind him somewhere. Great, still being ogled by unseen eyes. It was all he could do to not give the camera in front of him a one-claw salute. Did they think he was a rookie, that he wouldn't know? Logan huffed, head cocking to one side as he finally noticed another sound, one he wasn't initially sure of. It was soft, barely there, a kind of faint hissing in the background as if air were escaping from confinement. Was there a leak? His head turned slightly, gaze not seeing anything except the room itself until hazel eyes rested on a vent to his left. Wait a minute… that's where the sound was coming from! The sons of bitches were trying to gas him! Logan half stood but couldn't straighten all the way before he became lightheaded. What the hell was that stuff? It had to be strong. Very strong. That, combined with his relaxed, unready state, left him vulnerable to its effects. Claws slid out of his hands reflexively as he stumbled forward a step, dropping to his knees. He never felt the adamantium blades secrete themselves in his flesh again as blackness dropped over his vision and he knew nothing else.

x_X_x

Logan came back to awareness far too slowly for his liking, although he honestly needed the time to process what had happened. Shit, that's right. Walked straight into some kind of trap and got himself captured. Damn it… Logan's blurry vision began to clear, and he ignored the faint taste of bitterness at the back of his throat from whatever gas they'd used, focusing on his surroundings and his own body. There was a weird sense of discomfort, which was quickly explained by the position he was in. His arms were brought tightly behind his back by some kind of shackles that gripped both wrists close together, so tight that his shoulders actually hurt from the strain. His feet were bare, boots and socks probably discarded somewhere along with his overshirt. At least his jeans and undershirt were still there, memories of the last time he'd been in captivity making him grateful for the relative warmth and modesty. Logan shifted and sat up from his prone position, groaning as the shift made his shoulders ache even more. There was a soft metallic sound and a grip around his throat that made Wolverine snarl as he looked at the source of the noise. They'd put a damned leather collar on him as if he were a dog, and as if that weren't bad enough, he was chained to the wall! He forced back the aggression, trying to stay calm. Flying into a rage would only hurt him in the short run. The shackles weren't open bracelets like he'd first thought, but surrounded his fists with the gleaming metal. Maybe he could weaken them with his claws and… Hazel eyes widened. The reflexive call to his weapons of choice had been answered, but nothing had happened. Or rather, the claws had responded but they couldn't come out. The metal had stopped them, and with ease. Logan jerked a bit at the bonds. They must be adamantium too, damn the luck. Well, not luck, but Stryker's supposed knowledge of his past, and so his weakness. Fuck! Logan slumped a bit, having only made it to his knees. The first tingle of panic tried to take hold but he pushed it down. Not again… His subconscious was telling him this was very, very bad, as if he didn't already know that. Footsteps sounded then outside the door and Logan's head jerked up as it opened to admit Stryker and an armed guard. The room was really quite small, and more noticeably so with three people in it, making his captors far too close for his comfort. Wolverine barely suppressed his snarl, but the rage burning in his eyes was apparent, and amusing, it would seem. Stryker smirked, _smirked_ damn him.

"Glad to see you awake, Wolverine. I was wondering if we'd used too much gas. Then again, I'm sure you needed the rest after your long trip." That aggravating voice washed over him, managing to be both solicitous and condescending at the same time. Logan rose to a crouch on the balls of his feet, doing his best to get into a more aggressive stance but thrown off balance by his bound arms.

"Cut to the chase Stryker," he growled, hating the feeling of being toyed with. The other man just looked more delighted than anything, eyeing his captive with undisguised pleasure.

"Don't worry Wolverine, it won't be long. You're home now, back where you belong. And I'm going to make sure it stays that way this time." Logan growled again to cover the despair that flooded his mind. The bastard had never wanted to help him, but he'd been too caught up in his own desires to listen to his instincts. Scott was gonna have a field day with this one…

"Stuff it! Ain't no way you'll hold onto me for long!" he threw out, the collar choking him a little over his Adam's apple as he pressed forward, wishing his claws could be in front of him so he could gut the smug son of a bitch. Stryker smiled, a look so calculating and cruel that Logan felt coldness settling into his belly.

"Oh no, Wolverine, that's where you're wrong. I'm going to break you, my boy. And this time, there'll be no escape. Finally, the perfect weapon is within my grasp again." At that moment, Logan felt the first stirrings of true fear as he looked into those dispassionate eyes.


	7. A Past and a Future pt 7

"See you later Wolverine," a voice taunted as the two guards turned to leave their prisoner's cell, paying no further attention to the man left panting on the floor. The sound of their chatter was cut off by the door closing, and Logan dropped his cheek to the cold surface below him, waiting for the tremors in his muscles to stop. This particular session had been a mix of tasers on high power and good old-fashioned brutality, and the feral could only lay limply for a few minutes as his mutation kicked in to repair the damage. Blood was spattered on the floor all around him from his many visits by the soldiers at the base, following Stryker's orders to begin the process of breaking their captive's body and mind. For days it had been a cycle of hurt, heal, and then more hurt, and to make matters worse they didn't seem inclined to bring him food or water at all. Logan's mouth was dry and his head pounded occasionally, and he realized he was feeling the effects of dehydration. Already his blood seemed to be thicker than usual, mostly oozing out weakly when skin was split during the beating sessions. He knew he'd lived through times like that before, where he couldn't find food or water, but the addition of blood loss and damage to his body was stretching his mutation to its limits. How long before his healing slowed to a crawl? Or stopped at all? Maybe that was a question the bastards wanted to find an answer to, damn them. Logan coughed softly, licking dry lips with a parched tongue, and musing that maybe being dried out was a good thing, since no creature comforts at all had been afforded, including bathing or a restroom. He'd actually pissed his jeans twice in the first couple of days after his capture, but that must have been before he'd gotten the moisture out of his body since no further urge had made itself known. He sighed, closing his eyes briefly as they burned. Even when no one was torturing him, someone would interfere and keep him from sleeping. The feral knew he could go for days without sleep, just like water, but all of the bad conditions were combining at once to make him the most miserable he could ever remember feeling. Wolverine ached desperately to be out of there, hell, he just ached in general, too worn out to even bother trying to sit up just yet. The little cell stunk of his sweat, blood, and urine, offensive to his sensitive nose, but he was lying down and so tired…

"No sleeping on the job you animal!" A voice crackled over a speaker in the wall, accompanied by a high-pitched screeching sound, and Logan jerked out of the first beginnings of dozing with a snarl and what could only be described as a whine, although he'd have denied it. He pushed down the will of instincts inside him that howled to be let loose and rage at these creatures who tortured him, trying to breathe slowly. Had to hold it together, had to try to just stay _sane_ , because if he went into a rage and couldn't come back from it, it would be harder for Charles to find his mixed-up mind. Logan cleared his thoughts, ignoring the cold seeping into his skin. His undershirt was already shredded, the tattered remains hanging from where it had been tucked into the waist of his jeans, much of it visibly darkened with old blood. The rest was lying in bits all around his prone form. A sigh escaped him as he struggled to sit up, hoping to at least get some quiet if he could stop from dozing off again by getting into an upright position. Logan was tired and hurting and just desperate for it to all go away.

"Come on Chuck, you've gotta find me," he whispered to the uncaring silence.

x_X_x

Rogue stared unseeingly into the distance, seated on the front steps of the school with her gloved palm propping up her chin. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Logan's disappearance. The fact that he'd left wasn't so surprising, but to leave without saying goodbye to her was out of the ordinary. With every trip he'd taken to follow leads on his past, he'd made sure to drop by and let her know he was going. Now, it had been almost five days since that Sunday and the sense of wrongness was getting stronger. She was hesitant to bring it up to the school's leadership though, afraid her worry would be mistaken for the reaction of a silly girl who couldn't handle being without her protector. Still, that inner voice was beginning to get louder, urging her to speak up and let some know because damn it, Logan deserved having someone to care about him and his whereabouts. There was also the fact that between training and sessions in the Danger Room, she was just starting to get a little control over her skin. The excitement over this didn't mean as much if she couldn't share it with her best friend, though. Lost in thought, the girl didn't notice a light step approaching until Storm sat down next to her.

"Something on your mind Rogue?" the older mutant asked kindly. Marie glanced over, gauging the woman's expression. Storm was always understanding and patient. Maybe she could confide her worries and not be seen as silly.

"Yeah," she started. "I just feel something is very wrong. With Logan, I mean. I can't shake the feeling that he needs us, needs help. I don't know why I'm feeling this way, I mean, he's the Wolverine. Of course he can take care of himself." She twisted a strand of white hair around her finger nervously. Storm's dark eyes were serious as the girl eyed her again briefly, the weather manipulator startled to hear her own thoughts echoed aloud from the younger mutant.

"I have that same feeling, Rogue. The feeling that something about this whole situation has been off from the beginning," she admitted, seeing the girl straighten up beside her in surprise and hope. "I think we should go to the professor."

Charles was receptive to the reason for their visit, knowing as soon as they'd stepped into his office that some action was needed.

"In truth I've been feeling some concern myself, given the circumstances under which Logan left. I'll use Cerebro and scan for his presence, but this could take some time. The first step is to make a grid search of sorts, starting with the most probable locations and then expanding from there." At Rogue's downcast posture, he smiled and gently took her gloved hand. "Don't worry Rogue, I won't stop until we know where he is." She felt relieved then, looking into the professor's sincere eyes. Everyone at the school considered Logan a part of their family, even if they weren't close, but sometimes she had to be reminded of that. The tight knot of worry in her chest finally eased a little as hope began to grow.


	8. A Past and a Future pt 8

Charles Xavier sat in the large, round room buried below the main levels of the school, his mind casting out and searching methodically as he had done for the past two weeks, nineteen days in total after Logan's sudden vanishing act. As far as he could tell, their feral friend must have remembered something and set off in search of his past. However, there were so many leads and areas that he had uncovered for Wolverine to search, both in the States and out of the country, that the telepath was beginning to get frustrated. And if Logan had ventured into new territory, it would be exponentially harder to find him. Additionally, the time Charles could spend searching had been unavoidably restricted by school duties and various legal matters, leaving the normally serene schoolmaster chafing under the weight of it, feeling as if he were letting their absent friend down. He struggled to maintain his composure, swinging focus up north, into the feral's home country. Xavier had been focusing on the more recent information he'd collected for Wolverine, and was working his way backward toward the older leads. After that, it would be anybody's guess.

"Logan… where have you gone, my friend?" the telepath murmured, turning Cerebro toward an abandoned military base that had been a very cold lead indeed. Quiet filled the room around him as he concentrated, seeking the feel of a familiar and wild presence. Suddenly his eyes flew open as he gasped. There! An urgent mental call reached out to his team, directing them to the War Room, although not revealing anything further. He'd found Logan, but all was definitely not well.

x_X_x

Scott, Ororo, and Jean watched the professor closely, anxious to find out what he had to say. Scott had let go of most of his irritation at their absent teammate, after a talk with Storm had him looking at the situation from a different perspective. Sometimes he wondered if their weather goddess had picked up some of Charles' abilities through constant nearness, as she had an uncanny ability to empathize with people and help others see another viewpoint. He mentally shook his head, refocusing attention as the professor spoke.

"The reason I've called you here is because I've found Logan. He's currently at a military base that he investigated once before. In fact, that was the first lead I ever found for him." Charles paused, taking in their looks of surprise.

"Well, that's good, right?" Jean asked into the brief silence. "Now that we know where he is, we can go bring him home." Scott shot her a side glance of hidden sympathy at the optimistic innocence in that question. The professor wouldn't have called them to the War Room just to let them know Logan's whereabouts. There had to be more, something far more, that needed to be discussed and planned. His worry was confirmed as their mentor spoke again.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Jean. Logan is being held there, and probably has been almost as long as he's been gone, if what I could feel from his mind is accurate." Storm gasped softly, and Jean's hopefulness visibly faded into concern.

"So we set up a rescue, Professor?" Charles looked over at Scott as he spoke, nodding.

"Yes, but I think it's safe to say these people are accustomed to dealing with mutants. I believe this will be better as a subtle mission of stealth rather than an overt show of powers. To that end, I'm going to request that you enlist Kitty to help." Scott opened his mouth to protest, but the telepath held up a hand. "I know she's young and fairly inexperienced, but her skill is extremely valuable at keeping herself and others safe. She has also done well in her training, and is very sensible. I'm quite sure she'll be an asset." Scott breathed out slowly through his nose, knowing that the girl would be valuable in the kind of mission they wanted, but still anxious about bringing an untested rookie into the field with them. Still, Charles usually had a sense for this kind of thing.

"Of course, Professor. We'll get her up to speed. How should we go about this?" They spent the next hour going over plans and contingencies, well aware that the fate of their friend was on the line.

x_X_x

"I wish I could be going too…" Rogue couldn't keep from sulking just a little as she watched Kitty suiting up to go on her first mission, a mission to rescue Logan, no less. Rogue couldn't help thinking she had a right to help save the feral man, as much as she owed him for all the times he'd saved her. Kitty flashed her an apologetic look, looking both determined and jittery.

"I know. I really wish you could too. I'm honestly so nervous right now," she confided, not minding revealing weakness to the other girl if it helped her feel better. Kitty did want to help, but she'd never been in an actual combat situation before. "I guess they think I can help in some way." She gulped in a breath, trying to steady her nerves, and Marie seemed to relent, catching the smaller girl in a one-armed hug.

"You'll be fine," she said with a little smile. "Keep yourself and everyone else safe, okay?" Kitty nodded, suddenly all seriousness.

"We're gonna bring him back. I just know it, so don't worry. He'll be grumpily stalking the halls again before you can say 'cantankerous cigar-chewing Canuck'. Marie's eyes widened, and then she broke into giggles, cheered by the spontaneous humor.

"Where did that come from?" she gasped, catching a breath. Kitty grinned, glad to be able to get both their minds off of the situation.

"Jubilee. I think she's making a list of nicknames to call him, just to annoy him when he gets back." Rogue wouldn't put it past the girl Logan sometimes called Firecracker, who was very creative and precocious when it came to randomness.

"Oh my God, he may regret coming back." They shared a smile and then a hug, and Kitty ran off with a wave, hoping her first mission would be a resounding success, especially with what was at stake.


	9. A Past and a Future pt 9

Once aboard the Blackbird, all the nervousness came back in spades, although she did her best to remain outwardly calm. Kitty was scared but wanted to do her best, knowing that the professor had requested her specifically. The trip to Alkali Lake went quickly, making far better time than Logan must have, and in a matter of hours they were hovering several hundred yards off the base in full stealth mode, readying to land. She heard Mr. Summers draw in a sharp breath through his nose and looked forward to where he sat in the pilot's seat, just able to see his jaw muscle clenching from her position.

"He didn't even get it under cover! Just left it right out in the open!" His indignant tone was a surprise as she straightened up in her seat and focused on what he was looking at, a motorcycle parked in a snowy clearing, with several inches of white powder dusting its surfaces. Oh, that must be the motorcycle Mr. Logan was always borrowing. Guys were kind of weird about machines, weren't they? She caught a hint of exasperated amusement in Ms. Grey's eyes, as if the redhead was on the receiving end of a conversation that she'd heard many times before. Ms. Munroe didn't seem to respond, but maybe that was because she occupied the co-pilot's seat and would be seen if she showed any hint of laughter.

"Obviously Logan went on foot from here, so maybe we should do the same," the white-haired woman said, outwardly cool, but mentally she was sharing an eyeroll with Jean. "It looks like there's room for the Blackbird." Scott's lips pressed tightly together at the change of subject, but he didn't say anything further. It was likely he would have something else to snipe at Logan about later, though. Jean gave the softest of sighs, unable to help feeling a sense of dread, like things were about to go horribly wrong. The thought crossed her mind that she'd be happy if they could all return safely, even if it meant Scott got to yell at Logan one more time.

x_X_x

It took some doing, but Jean managed to convince Scott that now was not the time to load his motorcycle onto the Blackbird, insisting they needed to move now and could pick it up later. Once out of the jet, they felt weirdly conspicuous against the white landscape, trudging toward the base's location in silence. When they reached the main entrance, Scott held his hand up to signal a stop.

"The professor wants this to be covert, so maybe we should try a different approach," he suggested, glancing around the open area toward the forested edges. It had obviously snowed at least once since Logan had come to the base, so finding tracks wouldn't be likely. Still, he thought he saw something just over there… Taking a few steps, Scott realized what he'd seen was just that, a partial boot print within the tree-sheltered edge that couldn't be entirely covered due to the branches spreading overhead. "Look, he must have gone this way." Their little group moved in that direction, barely able to follow the broken trail of footprints until they caught sight of a section of the wall that looked off, too bright and new when compared to the rest of its weathered surface.

"How strange," Storm murmured. "It's as if they had to replace it. But only this one section." It wasn't even a very large section, about two feet wide and a little over six feet tall. Kitty pondered that for a moment, when her thoughtful gaze rested on faint slash marks on a tree right next to her.

"Oh my gosh!" she gasped, looking between the tree and the wall. The adults swung their attention her way, making her feel suddenly shy at being the main focus all of a sudden. "Um, look, Mr. Logan's been here." She pointed to the tree, and Scott frowned.

"That definitely looks like his work. But it also looks like that was made a very long time ago." Kitty's eyes widened, and Jean had a sudden realization of what that meant, namely an old remnant of Logan's presence combined with the recent repair to the base's wall. She was so startled that the thought became words before she could restrain herself.

"This is where he went in. And this is also where he got out, sixteen years ago." The group sobered at that, the excitement of the discovery muted somewhat. It also made them a little warier, since this place obviously had a long history with mutants, and not a good one. Kitty gulped in a breath.

"Give me a sec and I'll do a quick check, see if the coast is clear." She looked to her team leader for confirmation and was given a tight nod by Cyclops. Stepping forward to the wall, the young girl slipped her head and shoulders through, creating a strange but not uncommon visual to the group of X-men as she peeked inside with part of herself still on the outside. Within seconds she backed out. "All's quiet there, at least for now." Scott thought a moment.

"Okay, we go in quietly. Jean, use your powers and keep a mental eye out for anyone coming. If we're forewarned then maybe we can avoid detection for as long as possible. Kitty, stay in the center of the group, within touching distance. That way we can protect you, but can also be affected by your phasing abilities." The young mutant nodded her understanding, and, with their hands on her shoulders and right arm, the lot of them walked straight through the concrete barrier.

x_X_x

"Hey look, it's playtime at the zoo again." In the security room, one of the guards assigned to monitor the camera feeds slapped his fellow screen-watcher on the arm, causing him to scowl slightly before looking where indicated. In Wolverine's cell, two soldiers had just entered and were obviously taunting the captive mutant, who was slumped on his knees but still remained too defiant for his own good. "Man, I'd love to get in on that again. Hope my turn comes up soon. It's boring watching the halls." The other man chuckled, a sound that held no real humor, only cruelty.

"Well, next best thing is watching, right? Looks like there's finally something good on the telly." They settled in, focused on the one screen that held their interest, not seeing the small group of people in black leather stealthily moving down one of the outermost hallways.


	10. A Past and a Future pt 10

For close to twenty minutes, they'd been moving through the base, managing to avoid the few soldiers in the halls. Jean held her hand up and their little group stopped, wondering if she'd felt soldiers near again. The redhead surmised their initial thoughts and gave a silent negative by shaking her head. This was something else entirely. She'd been getting a stronger feeling, a hit on her internal catalogue of familiar minds that had led them in this direction.

"Scott," she murmured, "Logan's nearby. He's very close." Her powers were nowhere near the professor's level, but she could still feel the strong current of pain and rage that flooded his thoughts, such as they were, so strong that she had to immediately shut off the tenuous connection or be pulled down into the maelstrom. Scott cocked his head, and Jean realized she must be showing how shaken she felt. "I don't know what's happening to him, but he's angry and hurting. I can't even hold onto his mind to let him know we're here. It's a bit … erratic." Kitty blanched visibly, unable to help wondering if they'd arrived too late. Scott huffed a sigh, wondering the same thing.

"Which way, Jean?" She pointed to the left, and they were on the move again, coming to an intersection. She stopped them again, urgently, so that they stayed a couple of feet away from it, just as a door opened out of sight. There were two voices, men, moving away, apparently down the unseen hall.

"He's getting to be no fun. Think we're close to breaking him?"

"Maybe. Hope he lasts a little longer, I wanna try that new idea tomorrow." There was a low snicker.

"I'm sure you'll get your chance. Hey, did you see how he dropped when I clubbed him? He's definitely weakening fast. We might just have a week more, tops, so think of all th…"

Their voices tapered off into distance, and Scott only then realized he had his hand on his visor, muscles tensed to step out and take a blast at those jerks. He forced himself to calm down, reasoning they didn't need an alert going out now when they were so close. Jean put a hand on his arm, and he knew she'd probably caught a glimpse of his thoughts and sympathized with them. They approached the door, expecting to have to break in or use Kitty's power, only to find it wasn't locked. Storm and Scott shared a startled glance. Was security that lax? Or was there a valid reason to not worry about someone getting out? Cyclops steeled himself and opened the door, the four of them stepping inside quickly, although at the same time they were almost reluctant to enter. As soon as they were inside and had shut the heavy metal barrier behind them, Kitty let out a gasp and recoiled. Only two feet away was someone on the floor, laying on his side and facing toward them. His hands were bound somehow behind his back, but they couldn't see his face, as it was covered by a rough canvas bag with drawstrings tightened around the neck. Jean knew it was Logan, but he wasn't responding to their presence. Had he lost consciousness right before they came in? What had those soldiers done to him? The tiny cell smelled unpleasant, she then noticed, like unwashed body, blood, and a urinal mixed together, and it wasn't hard to imagine why after seeing the state of him. His jeans were filthy, probably from boot soles kicking at him and from being on the floor, and every inch of bare skin showing was grimy and blood-flecked as well. There were open wounds on his torso and several on his legs, showing through bloodied rips and tears of denim, and they weren't closing up at all. How much had his healing factor gone through? Parts of his torso had a scorched look, the flesh still slightly reddened, body bearing a multitude of reminders of how cruel mankind could be. Jean's thoughts were derailed as Logan suddenly lunged upright in a single motion, swaying on one knee while a menacing rumble filled the air. He'd come to a sudden stop and Storm gasped as she saw why, the leather collar around his neck stiff with dried sweat and blood, connected to a short chain that attached to the back wall. She could almost feel the festering anger exuding from the bound mutant, and it made the hairs on her neck stiffen with sorrow and fright.

"Logan? Logan, we're here. You're going to be okay." Jean's soft voice echoed slightly in the tiny room, and the feral's body stiffened, the growl ceasing. "I'm… I'm going to get that bag off, okay?" The redhead was hesitant, not quite sure if he was in a state of mind to understand her, but hating to see that thing covering him. She moved forward and loosened the ties, getting a good look at the rough material for the first time. It was covered in splotches of rusty brown, mostly on the front where his face was, making her stomach roil just a bit with disgust. Slowly, not wanting to startle the fragile man in front of her, Jean pulled off the bag, tossing it away as soon as it cleared his head. It was hard not to gape at him stupidly though, as she took in his features. Gaunt was the only word to describe him. He'd always been amazingly muscled, and his body reflected that even now, but it was more obvious when looking at his face that something was wrong. Logan's eyes seemed sunken in and dull, cheeks hollowed, and she only then realized that every dip and curve of muscle stood out in stark relief, in a very unhealthy way. The man was… dehydrated. And severely so. His wild hair was mussed and longer than usual, as were his muttonchops, with some beard covering his chin and neck. Kitty stared briefly at that before gaining the presence of mind to look away. So he did have to shave! She'd always wondered about that. Logan shuddered slightly, rocking forward a little as if to stand, but aborted the movement halfway with a choked gasp. He stared up at Scott, gaze intense.

"Ca…" Tongue touched lips but did nothing of use, his mouth as dry as cotton, wincing as the motion pulled at the injury of a split lip that was still bloodied. "Camera." The normally smooth baritone voice was rough and hoarse, barely intelligible after weeks of not using it and no real moisture in his body to aid his vocal chords and mouth in forming words. Hazel eyes stared groggily up behind them, focused over the door, and Cyclops whirled. He then noticed the small round lens embedded in the wall. Oh crap…

"Kitty?" He looked to their youngest rescuer, who nodded in understanding.

"Got it Mr. Summers. Give me a boost." The visored mutant lowered his stance slightly and cupped his hands, allowing the girl to put her foot in the cradle of his palms and get a lift up. One of her hands swiped through the wall and into the little device and there was a soft crackling sound, of wiring shorting out.

"It may not be long before they notice that camera feed is gone. Kitty, get those cuffs and the collar off for him please. Logan, can you walk?" Scott was in leader mode, trying to ignore any emotional response in favor of thinking with precision and logic. Wolverine held still as Kitty walked behind him, taking hold of the heavy adamantium cuffs and pulling them straight away from clenched hands before letting them fall heavily to the bloody floor. The leather restraint around his neck was quickly turned to a nonentity and flung down as well, as if Kitty couldn't stand to touch it any longer than she had to. Logan groaned as he uncurled his fingers, the muscles and joints aching from being in the same position for weeks.

"I think so." The feral's voice was still just barely there, Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to swallow. Storm got a hand under his elbow, helping steady the shaky movement upward. Logan hadn't stood upright since his captivity began, and the shift in position made his head swim. Leg muscles trembled at supporting his augmented weight, burning calories he didn't have to spare. The energy he'd mustered when he thought soldiers were coming back in to torture him was spent. He was exhausted, drained from blood loss, and felt strangely empty, like all emotion had been siphoned out of his body. He almost didn't care that he was being rescued, too done with it all to do more than merely react. Jean glanced over worriedly at the feral, but didn't say anything. Now wasn't the time to probe or psychoanalyze, now was the time to get out and get to safety. Then they could pick up the pieces and get him some medical help.

"Good. Kitty, we need an all clear first." The girl stepped forward and poked her head through the door before withdrawing.

"We're good right now." Scott was relieved.

"Okay, we'll phase through the door to save time, and follow the route back to where we came in. Jean, keep a mental eye out, and Storm, if we do run into trouble, feel free to create some cover." The weather goddess gave a nod as they moved out. The hallways were clear, thankfully, but Scott didn't believe that would last for long. Where there was one camera, there were bound to be more. God only knew what luck had kept them from being detected in the first place when they broke in, but please let that luck hold out. If he'd consulted with Logan, the other mutant could have told him that his own damn luck certainly didn't work that way, and the worst part was that it pulled others down with him. But at that point it was all Logan could do to follow along with Storm and Kitty behind him, and Scott and Jean taking point. His bare feet were noiseless on the cold floor as he moved with no real sense of purpose but to just keep going and make it out of the damnable base. They'd only gone about twenty feet when his ears picked up distant noise, and a lot of it, causing a low growl to rumble from his body. Kitty gasped as she almost ran into his broad back and the others stopped short as well.

"What is it? What do you hear?" Scott looked back at him, awaiting the answer to his question and noticing the new, tense posture Logan had adopted. The feral's head was down slightly, knees bent, all tiredness seemingly forgotten in the moment of something only his ears could detect. The response he got was less than promising.

"Trouble."


	11. A Past and a Future pt 11

Before Scott could open his mouth to ask for more specifics, they began to hear the clomping of footsteps getting closer, and doing it quickly. Even worse, it sounded like they were actually being covered at both ends of the hall, and Scott wasn't sure which way he should stay focused on. Kitty's eyes darted back and forth, and Logan could smell the anxiety coming off of her, but she stood her ground with them. Within seconds the first waves appeared, every soldier holding an automatic rifle, their uniformity of appearance and grim demeanor making the situation seem surreal. One of the soldiers before them held up his closed fist and the entire group stopped.

"Our orders are to capture Wolverine at all costs. The rest of you are expendable. Surrender or face extermination." Every rifle raised and Scott tensed, wondering how quickly he could trigger his visor. The team's leader couldn't see behind him, how Logan's eyes had widened at the declaration of intent. Hazel eyes locked on familiar faces in the crowd of armed men, bullies who had been to his cell and thought it was fun to torture the freak of nature. Go back to that hellhole? Let them try to hurt Kitty and Jeannie and the others? That would be a big fucking hell no! Before the thought had even fully formed in his mind, the claws were out and he roared, startling everyone in the hall as his leap took him right into the foremost line of soldiers straight in front of him. The stunned pause lasted a second before bullets started flying, although most of them were aimed at Wolverine as panic spread. He was already creating carnage, leaving a bloodied trail of dead or dying in the three seconds that had passed, and the X-men team were all flat out on the floor to avoid the gunfire.

"Logan! Shit!" Storm cursed, the unaccustomed word leaving her mouth without thought at the feral's unexpected and reckless action. Quickly she threw out a cold front behind them, frost thickening on the walls, while an arctic breeze knocked the soldiers to the ground. Scott picked off more of them with precise blasts and Jean flung others around enough to incapacitate. The three of them scrambled into standing positions, having secured their back trail, and took off after Logan with Kitty close behind. It wasn't hard to know where he'd been. All they had to do was follow the sickening sight of red spattered over the walls and the distant sound of rifle shots.

"Oh my God…" Jean looked vaguely sick as they rushed onward. Did Logan even know where he was going? A terrible thought occurred right after: would he be able to come back to them after this? The redhead could sense that he was close to some mental edge, almost emotionally broken from his captivity. First things first, though, find the man. It always amazed her how fast he could move for as heavy as he was. They'd covered what seemed like endless hallways and hadn't caught up to him. Kitty was feeling nauseous, trying not to look down at the bodies on the floor. She kept a picture in her mind, a vivid image of Logan's gaunt, bloodied face and haunted eyes right when Jean had pulled off the bag, and reminded herself that these assholes had done that. It helped. Not much, but some. She was breathing through her mouth, partially from exertion and partially to lessen the impact of the coppery scent infusing the air. Scott was feeling much the same way, although he was dealing with it. Hell, how far could Logan go before he ran out of steam? The feral had to be running on adrenaline fumes right about now, judging by the state they'd found him in. Hopefully this wasn't a base filled to capacity, so the enemies would run out sooner rather than later…

"Scott, look at that!" Storm's voice brought his attention back, and he looked down, as did everyone else, to where she pointed. A trail of bloody footprints had left the bodies behind, and was leading them down an empty corridor. Red-tinted vision caught sight of a figure ahead, slumped down on their knees, and Scott jogged forward suddenly. That muscled back and gravity-defying hair could only belong to one man.

"Logan! You shouldn't take off like that, we need to stay together!" He belatedly realized his words were more suited to scolding a child instead of the fully-grown man before him, but they'd all been worried for his safety. The little group he'd been leading came to a stop and waited for a response that didn't come. Wolverine knelt there, unmoving, his back dotted with numerous bullet holes that weren't bleeding, but weren't closing. Then again, could he even bleed at this point? Scott wasn't sure how the man was functioning, but his regeneration ability was probably doing its best at this point. Although how long that would last was anybody's guess. Kitty stepped forward.

"Logan?" Her soft voice was quiet in the empty hallway. They were about twelve yards away from the remnants of bloody destruction Wolverine had wreaked upon the base in his frenzy. It was a small shelter of peace and quiet, but one that could only be temporary. What if there were more soldiers, or backup had been called in? Scott crouched down next to Logan, but he turned his attention to the others.

"Jean, you and Kitty locate the exit again. Go through walls if you have to. Storm, you and I will stay here and guard Logan. Jean, give me a mental call when you've found it. You can lead us toward you." They split up, and Scott was aware of Ororo standing several feet behind him and keeping a watchful eye out, but his current focus was on the feral. Logan looked a bit like a horror film extra, hunched in on himself and dripping with blood that wasn't his own. The other man's gaze was turned down, no matter how Scott stared at him. Damn it, he always knew when he was being watched. Why wouldn't he just look up, already? Logan just ignored his presence, surrounded by other sensations that were overwhelming all else: blood drying on his skin, the faded ache between his knuckles after hiding his claws away, and his pulse pounding in his ears even though he should have been relaxed in his current slumped position. If his healing finally gave up, would his pain finally have an end? The numerous wounds he still carried burned but weren't fixing themselves. A nice dark, quiet afterlife… that sounded pretty good. Anything was better than always running, always hiding, always being hunted for what you were. To his horror, a sound broke from his throat, a sort of sob that he managed to stifle just afterward, but the boy scout heard it. Scott's visored gaze jerked in his direction but Logan turned his head away, ashamed at having revealed any of the turmoil he was losing the battle against. There was the sympathetic brush of a hand at the back of his neck, and then Scott stood up and walked five feet away, closer to Storm. Damn it, he did not want to be pitied! Logan's fingers spasmed slightly, wanting to clench into fists, but unable to pull up the necessary energy. Fuck it, he really wanted to sleep. Or die. Kind of the same thing at this point. The morbid thought made him bristle slightly, age-old survival instinct threatening to kick his ass if he even _thought_ about giving in.

"Finally ready to listen to reason, Wolverine?" Logan felt his entire being just freeze, like ice cold rain had poured down over him in a sudden flood. The voice was pitched low, his sensitive hearing picking up what Storm and Cyclops probably couldn't, that Stryker was standing in a hallway in front of him about a foot away. Judging by the scent, he also had a gun, although Logan dismissed that as inconsequential. Just the man's presence, though, was enough to raise his discomfort to almost anxiety level. When would the asshole leave him alone?! He still refused to raise his head, even as he heard the unmistakable sound of a revolver's cylinder being opened for loading purposes. "You can start all over again, you know. I can take away all of this suffering, all the painful memories. See, these aren't just any old bullets. They're made of adamantium." Wolverine jerked slightly at that revelation without meaning to, eyes wide, and he heard Stryker's chuckle. "Yes, that does mean something, doesn't it. I'll wager that a close proximity shot to the head would just about wipe you clean." Soft sounds, each round being slowly and deliberately inserted into the cylinder as if the military man were relishing the ritual. "You really did leave quite a mess here for me to clean up. Like seeing the scene afterward of a bear attack." There was a tutting sound. "You're just an animal, Wolverine. You always have been. You know it. I know it. And now… they know it." He couldn't see it, but he could hear a wide grin in that smug voice, the pleasure being taken from those words. "You think Xavier will want anything to do with you after this? I'm doing you a favor, you know." The chambers were apparently filled as he heard the metallic click of the cylinder being flung back into position. "Scrambling your brains will be like putting down a rabid dog. You'll start with a clean slate. Or maybe if you're lucky, it'll actually kill you. You've wanted to die for a while now, haven't you?" Hazel eyes closed tightly. Did he still? Yeah, he kinda did, God help him. A soft squeak of rubber sole on concrete, and he knew Stryker had stepped out from hiding. Logan felt his insides go cold as his body shuddered, but he didn't move, didn't protest. Just… get it over with, damn you.

Scott conversed softly with Ororo for a few minutes, hoping to give Logan some time to compose himself. Hell, if the other man was able to show any emotion at all, the X-men's leader considered that better than the complete apathy he'd exhibited until then. What prompted him to look back, he didn't know. Scott just casually glanced over in mid-sentence and froze. Not much had changed. Wolverine remained huddled in on himself, still covered with slowly darkening blood, but standing right beside Logan was William Stryker, with a gun held mere inches away from the side of the feral's skull. Holy fuck…!


	12. A Past and a Future pt 12

Previously, on X-men: A Past and a Future…

 _Scott conversed softly with Ororo for a few minutes, hoping to give Logan some time to compose himself. Hell, if the other man was able to show any emotion at all, the X-men's leader considered that better than the complete apathy he'd exhibited until then. What prompted him to look back, he didn't know. Scott just casually glanced over in mid-sentence and froze. Not much had changed. Wolverine remained huddled in on himself, still covered with slowly darkening blood, but standing right beside Logan was William Stryker, with a gun held mere inches away from the side of the feral's skull. Holy fuck…!_

* * *

Storm jerked next to him with an extremely confused expression, and Stryker jumped, distracted momentarily from what he'd been about to do. Scott had been so shocked that he'd actually shouted the words out loud, but had no time to feel embarrassed. The spectacled old soldier was already bringing the gun up again, looking determined to do whatever the hell his crazy plan was. There was a mere instant of decision, during which Scott realized he couldn't care less what happened to Stryker, but the bastard could never be allowed to fuck Logan over again. His hand rose and triggered the visor covering his eyes, allowing energy to burst forth and catch the military man full on, blasting him away from Logan and into a wall. He ended in a heap on the floor, but Scott didn't even glance over as he rushed toward Wolverine, ending on one knee beside the still unmoving mutant. He could feel Storm standing right behind him, a supportive presence that he really needed at the moment. Scott was fairly certain he'd just taken someone's life deliberately. "Logan, are you okay?" he asked, although realized right after he said it that it was a pretty stupid question. The other man didn't seem okay at all, appearing completely apathetic to what was going on around him. Didn't he care at all that someone had just tried to execute him? One muscled shoulder shrugged half-heartedly.

"'M okay," Wolverine muttered, still making no effort to get up, or to move at all. What was wrong with him? This wasn't at all like the caustic feral, and Scott wondered if maybe it really was too late, and Stryker had managed to break Logan for good this time. He shook his head, placing a hand on the other's back and feeling the muscles tense at the unexpected contact.

"No, you're not," he responded, almost gently. Logan's lips twisted in a ghost of a smirk, as if he couldn't even muster the energy for anything but the smallest fragment of emotion.

"I'm always okay," he finally said, looking down at his hands where they lay loosely curled on his thighs, focusing on the skin between his knuckles. "Doesn't matter." A shake of the head then, the first deliberate attempt at movement since he'd fallen to his knees after slaughtering all those soldiers. Scott desperately wished Xavier were here, as he'd know what to do or say. Or even Jean, who Logan probably felt closest to after Rogue. But he'd started this, so it was up to him in this moment; he had to do the best he could.

"It does matter, because you're hurting, and you've been hurt, and it should never have happened. But it also matters because you're one of us," Scott replied, and hazel eyes finally looked at him, just a bit out of the corners.

"What, a mutant?" There was some self-loathing in Logan's tone, and Cyclops knew then he'd never really understood how much the feral might blame himself for what had happened in his past.

"No. An X-man." Logan jerked a little, fully looking at him then, but dropped his gaze too fast, as if he was ashamed of something. Scott's lips pressed together in exasperation, but he did understand, a bit. Their teammate had been through hell the past two weeks. It was going to take some time to bring him back from the edge. Time they hopefully had, before he spooked and disappeared to try and recover all alone. Cyclops opened his mouth to say more when he felt a familiar tug at his mind. He sat back a little and 'listened', giving Logan's forearm a reassuring squeeze before standing up. "Storm, Kitty and Jean made it back to the jet. She says the route is a little winding from where we are now, especially without Kitty's help, but she'll be giving me directions as we go." The white-haired woman nodded her understanding and helped him get Logan back on his feet. She wasn't sure how quickly the feral would be able to move, but was completely certain they all wanted to be gone from that place as soon as possible. The three of them moved off without a backward glance, having to retrace their route at first through the hallways littered with bodies. Once they'd left the area, Stryker's still form finally moved weakly, something wrong with his back as he struggled to do more than twitch, gasping. One hand reached into his coat pocket, teeth gritted against the pain, and pulled out a small mechanism, pushing a button at one end. Then he looked at the revolver laying a foot away where it had landed once he'd hit the wall. The black opening of the barrel beckoned to him. A minute later, a single gunshot echoed through the empty hallway before all was silent again.

x_X_x

Jean smiled with relief as she made contact with Scott, her look mirrored on the younger mutant's face next to her. She and Kitty were within sight of the Blackbird, and before too long this ordeal would be just a bad memory. It was a shame that Logan had far too much experience with such things… The redhead stifled her unexpected bout of pity, knowing the feral mutant wouldn't stand for it, even from her, and it wouldn't do to distract Scott when he was currently occupied with helping lead the rest of their team back out of the now truly abandoned base. They'd encountered no one else on their way out, so the escape should be no trouble, even with Logan's injuries. At least on the jet she would have some field supplies, could hopefully make him a little more comfortable and clean his wounds. As they approached the jet, Jean triggered the ramp.

"We'll get the Blackbird ready so we can take off as soon as they get out of there," she told the other girl, whose face mirrored her own buoyant thoughts. "With the route they have to take and the pace they'll set, I'm thinking no more than fifteen minutes, and then we'll be heading back home." Their footsteps echoed slightly on the metal as they came aboard and Jean began prepping their high-tech transport. At her instruction, Kitty began pulling a few supplies out from the small medical bay in the back, laying out gauze, antiseptic and wound cleanser.

"I hope Logan feels better when we get back to the mansion," Kitty murmured. She couldn't forget how distant the feral had been, all life and passion drained away as if Stryker had been some kind of vampire. The thought made her shudder, so she pushed it aside as Jean considered her words.

"I hope so too, Kitty. Being back in familiar, loved surroundings will hopefully help him ease back from whatever happened to him in there. We'll have to be patient, I'm sure. Very patient. There's no telling how…" Jean's sentence was left unfinished as she cocked her head to the side, hearing a faint rumble, her senses caught up in something intangible that had registered to her psychic 'feelers'. Something was wrong… something very bad had happened. But what? She closed her eyes and concentrated, brow furrowing with the effort, unaware of the concerned look Kitty was giving her. Without warning her eyes snapped open, expression brimming with fear. "Oh God!"

"What's wrong?" Kitty wondered, anxiety rising once more just from seeing Jean's reaction. The redhead responded with urgent, clipped tones that allowed no questioning or argument.

"Kitty, get to the others as fast as you can, right now! I don't know what happened, but that dam is starting to break and we're going to be right in the path of all that water! When you reach them, you all have to move, and I mean _move_. Use your powers and just come straight through, there's no time! I'll have the Blackbird waiting." Kitty gasped, though to her credit she didn't hesitate, didn't balk, but took off like a shot down the open ramp. Jean's stomach felt like ice, knowing people she cared about were in harm's way, and that if this went badly they could all very well die in this place that had been the source of Logan's haunted nights. She relayed the current situation to Scott's mind, sending him all the love and reassurance at her disposal.


	13. A Past and a Future pt 13

Scott and Storm were making slow progress with Logan, the feral breathing hoarsely and leaning on his team leader more and more as they moved down a stretch of hallway. What Cyclops wouldn't give to have Colossus there, or even Jean to give him some telekinetic help with the heavy man. Without warning Logan tensed, stopping mid-step and swaying a bit as if the loss of momentum confused his weary body.

"Whu whuzzat..?" he mumbled, shivering slightly. The loss of blood, weakened state of his body, and cool air around them as they made their way toward the upper floor was beginning to take their toll, and Scott realized Logan was likely starting to go into shock. He gave a short mental curse.

"What was what…?" Storm's calm voice was soothing, washing over Logan's frayed nerves and making him lean just a little closer to her, taking in her scent of ozone and warm spring rain. It took him a second to remember she'd asked a question, so caught up in the pleasant sensory input that he lost all track of the present.

"Noise. Rumble." Logan coughed slightly, his throat and mouth still unbearably dry, feeling weighed down by all that had happened to him. He just wanted to collapse right there, but a small part in the deepest recesses of his being still yearned to live, howled for him to keep going. He didn't see the startled looks the other two exchanged behind his back.

"More soldiers?" The question came from Scott, maybe rhetorical, but he automatically shook his head.

"Deep. Big. I dun thin' so." The words slurred, and Logan fought in vain to stay upright. His adrenaline was gone completely, leaving only exhaustion and pain from the numerous still open wounds decorating his entire body. Ororo gasped as his weight shifted and Scott had to help her maneuver him to the middle as he tilted toward her.

"Logan, stay with us! You have to keep moving, please!" Storm's voice was reaching a slightly higher octave in desperation, knowing the feral had reached the end of his strength. She hated that he couldn't stop and rest yet, but they only had to make it to the jet, and then all would be well. She suddenly heard Scott take a quick indrawn breath and looked over, concerned.

"Damn it, we have to get going! Jean just told me that the dam's been compromised and this place is going to be flooded soon." Their visored leader jostled Logan slightly, startling him from the standing half-doze he'd dropped into. The sudden jerking motion made the feral's head hurt, and he growled softly, feeling only vaguely aware of his surroundings.

"Leave me 'lone," he snarled, but it came out sounding more like a plea. He was slowing them down, wasn't he? He… he was tired. Let him sleep, he'd be okay. "G' on out. I'll… be fine. Prob'ly." Logan shook his arms weakly, urging them to let go, shivering even more. Storm hurt for him, but couldn't, _wouldn't_ , give in.

"We can't take that chance, Logan," she replied, tightening her own grip on one broad, twitching bicep. His muscles had begun spasming slightly from the extreme dehydration. "Now get your damned heavy ass in gear!" She was nearly in tears but held her emotions at bay, frightened for them all but even more concerned with their injured friend's complete personality switch. He'd gone from a desperate fight to survive to barely even caring, if that. If Scott hadn't already dealt with Stryker, she'd swear she could fry the man herself, no matter how much she valued life. Logan gaped at her almost stupidly, his own thought processes muddled and foggy, but he knew she didn't normally talk like that. The look on his face would have been comical, hazel eyes wide and mouth open in surprise, but Ororo was far too worried to laugh in the current situation. The white-haired woman gazed up to the ceiling, sending out a quick prayer for help… and blinked when a pair of shoes appeared, followed by the rest of Kitty dropping down from above. She landed lightly in front of them, breathing heavily. The girl must have been moving at quite the high speed to get so winded!

"Jean said she already told you, so let's get going!" She turned around before grabbing at them, getting Scott's hand in her right and both Logan's and Ororo's in her left, her frightened grip nearly crushing their fingers. Then she concentrated, focusing on thinning out their density until the light, floating feeling saturated every part of her. Kitty adjusted her ability, sending them rising up as quickly as possible until they emerged on the first floor. The sudden reversion again to actual weight seemed to hit Logan the hardest, and he stumbled, held up only by the three of them. Without thinking Kitty flung herself forward and Storm and Cyclops were right with her, their heartbeats racing with the need to escape. Logan could hear the fear in their panting breaths and stuttery, pounding pulses, but couldn't seem to raise the same emotion in himself. He half ran and half staggered, long legs barely keeping up, even with Kitty's much shorter strides. Every part of him felt achy and cold, but he knew if he didn't at least try to keep up they would stop to help him, and that would put them in harm's way. He didn't know what was wrong, having been in his own hazy world when Scott relayed the urgent message from Jean, but his instincts were flaying his nerves and giving him a barely held reserve of energy. Logan could feel something coming, a faint rumbling in the concrete under his bare feet, and he didn't want his friends to be caught up in it. They surged through walls and rooms, the scenery flying by without his noticing until they emerged suddenly into snow-reflected sunlight and an extreme change in temperature. The absolute chill hit him like a sledgehammer in the chest, but he barely had time to feel it freezing the air in his lungs and stinging his bare feet before they were moving again. The shivering that was taking control of his muscles got even worse, and he felt weighed down, body seeming to get heavier with every step. Kitty had released them from her awkward hold so she could run better, and he had a vague thought to wish she'd held on to him with her power just because it would have made it so much easier to sprint.

"We're almost to the jet, just keep going and we're out of here!" Scott yelled as they crunched recklessly through snow and underbrush. Logan could feel sharp rocks and bits of debris piercing the soles of his feet, but paid little attention. What were a few more stings? The sound was louder out here, a distant wall of something ominous that caused the others to pick up the pace just a bit more. The worn feral looked ahead, blurring vision catching sight of the Blackbird's dark shape against the snowy background, and almost-relief flashed through his mind. Get aboard and sleep, get aboard and sleep… The mantra echoed in his mind, but his body didn't want to listen. It was done. It demanded immediate rest, and it refused to take no for an answer. Wolverine didn't even feel it coming. He just dropped, landing in a crumpled heap in the snow and making Storm trip over him, unable to stop herself in time. His gaunt form trembled all over, and he was barely breathing.

"Damn it, no! Jean, help!" Ororo's desperate yell made Scott pause and look back. Looking ready to curse himself, he urged Kitty to get onto the jet with himself right behind. He moved past Jean just inside with a few quickly spoken words before the redhead was running down the ramp with a horrified expression, darting toward her teammates on the snowy ground. Storm had gotten to her feet, but there was no way any of them could physically carry Logan's limp form.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God…" Storm could hear Jean's whispered plea.

"We'll finish getting the Blackbird ready. You can do this Jean." Ororo's tone was urgent and reassuring before she ran to the ramp and disappeared inside the jet. Jean inhaled a steadying breath and then exerted her power, focusing on keeping Logan steady as his limp body rose up and began floating toward the Blackbird. They had precious little time, but she couldn't panic or she'd never be able to concentrate enough to move the heavy mutant. Even without Logan's hearing, she could make out a very faint rushing sound getting louder, the cracking dam finally giving way to the inevitable. Jean determinedly ignored all else, the sense of dread in her stomach, the slight tinge of blue on Logan's lips, and her own fears and doubts. She just _was_ , pulling at that power inside of her to help her teammate, her friend. Foot by foot she moved them toward safety, taking precious steps in the jet's direction. Jean was admittedly feeling a little shaky herself but pushed through, feeling relief wash through her in a warming rush as her next step made contact with the ramp. Kitty was right there, helping guide him back to the small medical area and getting him onto a low, bolted down cot. Scott and Ororo were finishing up at the controls, and Jean could hear the ramp pulling up against the jet's sleek body. They both hated to do it, but Kitty reluctantly used two thick, leather straps to buckle Logan into the cot, working as quickly as possible. The young mutant fervently hoped that he didn't wake up, because he'd truly be pissed at being restrained. It was a necessary evil, though; none of them wanted him getting jostled around during the flight home with the risk of deteriorating his condition even further. His wounds still weren't healing, and she thought she could see some blood actively oozing, if weakly, from a nasty gash on his right shoulder and several of the bullet holes in his broad chest. Jean and Kitty hurried back to the front once Logan was settled. There would be time in-flight to better take care of their wounded teammate, but with Wolverine's secured status, a more pressing matter reared its ugly head. Through the clear expanse of the Blackbird's windscreen, a rushing wall of water could be seen heading directly at them, pushing over trees and churning up debris. Scott's awed and worried tone spoke for them all.

"Holy shit…"


	14. A Past and a Future pt 14

Looong chapter this time. I just couldn't figure a way to break it up that would be good. So then I decided to just leave it this way to thank you readers for your patience while I wracked my brains figuring out how things would go. lol

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"Storm..?!" Scott's hesitant yet desperate use of her name made Ororo shake her head rapidly in a negative. There was no way she could summon up enough wind to hold back that much water, or drop the temperature rapidly enough to subdue it by freezing, either. Behind them Kitty gave a soft squeak of fear as they just stared helplessly at the flooding threat. Jean felt that helplessness rise up in her throat, choking her. She cast a quick look back to where their unconscious teammate rested. After what they'd been through, after what _Logan_ had been through, this couldn't be the end. She wouldn't allow it! If she'd thought about it, it probably would never have occurred to even try such a test of her abilities. But the redhead was so filled with emotions battling inside of her that thought didn't enter the process at all. Emotional chaos buffeted her mind; there was anger at the ones who had put them in this position, fear for the team's safety, and raw despair at the apparent futility of their mission. Her gaze locked onto the water with intense purpose, a sense of warmth spreading through her body, and it felt as if flames were flickering behind her eyes so they were even warmer than the rest of her. Slowly her hand rose, slim fingers stretching out and reaching to the threatening mass of liquid bearing down on them, with a strange feeling of everything moving in slow motion. Or maybe it was just that her perception had changed, and she was moving too fast. Nobody had noticed her yet, they were staring, shocked, as the flooding rush of water seemed to slow, almost imperceptibly at first, and then it just… hovered there, stuck in mid-rush. White foam barely crested over the top as the water behind it struggled to go somewhere.

"Oh my God," Kitty breathed, and Scott and Ororo glanced back at the younger mutant, seeing her gaze fixed beside her on the redheaded doctor. Jean was purely focused, body locked in a pose of authority with one hand outstretched, and warmth emanating from her slim form. Her normally soft eyes were bright and fiery, literally, with a vivid orange that resembled flames bleeding into the natural color of her irises. Scott took a moment to just be completely dumbfounded before he leapt into action, taking the pilot's seat and flicking switches like mad. Wherever this reserve of power came from, he was going to take advantage of it while the threatening flood was actually listening. The Blackbird powered up and began to lift off the ground, and Ororo seemed to come to herself suddenly, getting into the copilot's seat to help keep an expert eye on the dials and gauges. The twitching wall of water rose before them until they finally rose above it, and it was all Scott could do to remain focused on the task of flying and not stare at Jean. Kitty had no such distraction, staring raptly as Jean's temples beaded lightly with sweat and she began to tremble just a bit. Finally, with the water a good ten feet below them, the redhead gave a gasp and released her grasp on the heated surge of strength that had welled up in her, allowing the water to drop instantly into a crashing, destructive flood. Kitty jumped forward as Jean staggered sideways, helping her into a seat where she ended up laying more than sitting, limp and completely worn. Scott and Ororo shared a prolonged meeting of eyes in the front, the mutual silent look an exchange of 'What the hell was that?!'

x_X_x

A soft, steady beeping was her first indicator of being awake, followed by the impression of light and the familiar little noises of the med bay at the mansion. Jean slowly opened her eyes, only then realizing someone was holding her hand. The familiar, large fingers made her smile, and she looked up to see Scott sitting next to her, leaning forward urgently as he noticed her return to consciousness. His lips pressed to hers in a brief but strong kiss before their foreheads touched.

"Are you all right?" Any other questions took second place to the all-important need to know she was okay, his voice filled with worry. After all, Jean had shown an incredible display of power, far more than she was usually capable of. There was no telling what it could have done to her. She nodded her head, the fingers of her free hand moving upward to gently stroke his cheekbone.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, Scott," she assured him. Her own strength had definitely been a shock, but when faced with a life or death decision, she'd had to surprise even herself. Gazing up at Scott, she felt relaxed again, knowing they were safely home. Wait… or were they? Logan! The fear swirled through her mind again. "Logan… how is he?" she asked urgently, raising herself in the bed. His arm came behind her, supporting just until she was upright.

"He's going to be fine. Physically, at least." Supple lips twisted with worry. "You've only been asleep a couple of hours, and in that time we started him on a saline drip to help replace fluids until he can wake up. Some of the wounds have started closing, although the healing process is still slow." He clutched at her hand gently, unable to fully express how glad he was that she appeared in good health. "Do you think you're up to treating a patient?" Scott teased. Jean laughed, relieved that life seemed to finally be looking up again.

x_X_x

Humming. Something soft and sweet, that's what he heard, a woman's voice giving outlet to happiness and optimism. Logan was cocooned in darkness, surrounded by a peace and stillness so profound that he resisted leaving. But that gentle sound of song was pulling at him to return to wakefulness. He didn't want to; didn't want to return to the grim reality of what he remembered doing. He had recollections, growing clearer as his body finished healing, of hacking viciously at faceless forms, and blood, and pain. There had been no self-defense there, not really. Just mindless anger and death. Quicker than what they had been doing to him, perhaps, but certainly just as brutal. It wasn't like when he'd been tortured briefly by those AAM goons, no, it had been a regression to the most primitive of mindsets, one that refused at all costs to be subject to the sadistic whims of someone else again. The following bloodbath must have shocked his friends. He had thought, or hoped, that he'd gotten past that part of himself. Logan felt himself stiffen at the reminder that he was just as much of an animal as Stryker had told him. His lower lip trembled just a bit as a tear escaped from a closed eyelid and soaked into his hairline at the temple. The humming stopped suddenly, the loss of it almost a physical thing to someone who had heard nothing but taunts, insults, or his own screams for weeks.

"Logan, what's wrong?" It was Storm's voice, her presence only then felt right by his side. How did she know…? Shit. Had she been watching? Had she seen the tough Wolverine sniveling like an upset child? He didn't want to be vulnerable again, to know he was being scrutinized by watchful eyes. Logan's shaggy head turned away from her voice, a breath catching in his chest. Storm's heart ached as he refused to open his eyes and look at her. She'd noticed him coming back to wakefulness at that point of her scheduled vigil, seeing a slight difference in his breathing and an unexpected tensing of the muscles. What had crossed his mind upon waking? They'd all been taking turns sitting by his side as he healed. The quiet had become a bit much and she'd hummed to fill it, tempted to run her fingers through the hair and muttonchops badly in need of grooming, but then a trickle of moisture had moved across his skin, startling her. "It's okay, Logan, you're safe. We're back at the school." Ororo hurried to reassure him, resting a hand on his forearm and feeling the soft hair there under her fingertips. Had he thought he'd awoken back in a lab? Perhaps he'd been dreaming just before waking, with the memories and terrors still caught in his thoughts. It wouldn't surprise her, with all he'd been through. His face tilted slightly toward her then, hazel eyes opening blearily, squinting as his pupils shrank against the unaccustomed light.

"O'ro…?" He tried to say her name, he really did, but could only croak out a distorted attempt before his dry throat protested, starting him coughing. She hastened to grab a cup from the stand near his bed and handed it to him when the annoying fit had stopped.

"Here, Logan, take a piece of ice in your mouth and let it melt. You've been out for two days. Your fluids are doing better, but you'll have to actually drink something to hydrate your throat and vocal chords. Something besides beer, that is," she added teasingly as he sucked out a frozen cube from the plastic cup. Hazel eyes rolled at that, although he couldn't deny the need for actual nourishing fluids. He felt better, especially with the ice releasing cooling liquid down his esophagus, but even that little bit of moisture hadn't quite eased his mouth. Storm watched him close his eyes blissfully as he sucked on the ice, smiling just a bit to herself. His body had pretty much recovered, losing the shocking gauntness and rounding out the muscled form properly, but mentally he was still troubled. She didn't know how she knew that, she just did. Something about his refusal to look at her again as he grabbed another piece of ice, and how uncomfortable he seemed, led her to the conclusion. And he had every right to be, hadn't he? He'd been hurt, repeatedly, and for quite some time, by people who saw him as nothing, something below human status. To them he'd been merely property, a pawn to use and abuse as they saw fit in some pursuit of so-called knowledge and military might. Bah. Storm huffed through her nose at the train of thought, making Logan look her way without thinking. His throat was feeling much better, so he chanced some words, concerned that something was wrong with her.

"You okay, Storm…?" He'd consumed half the cup of ice by then, she realized, so lost in her thoughts she'd forgotten to monitor the intake. Gentle fingers relieved him of the ice and set it back on the stand.

"Don't want to get too much in your stomach just yet. Doctor's orders," she said gently. "And I'm fine, Logan, thank you. Just worried about you. How are you?" The direct question made him uncomfortable again, eyes darting away from her gaze as he shrugged and rested against the pillow once more. He felt better, but damn, he still felt tired. His body wanted more sleep to recover. Logan gave a brief yawn, shaking his head.

"Nothing to worry about 'Ro. I'm always good, you know that." Dark eyes watched him doubtfully. Such a man, sometimes. Although in all fairness, his reluctance to admit worry about injuries was perhaps more than just machismo. Was he so used to healing that he didn't really give any importance to his body's state of health? He used the phrase 'It'll heal' quite often, with a shrug and a casual attitude. Just because he _could_ heal didn't make it all right that he had to go through it so often. Her mouth turned down in a frown.

"I'm still worried about you. You went through a lot, and then you pushed yourself even harder when you went after those soldiers to…" She stopped as he visibly flinched, shoulders adopting a hunched posture.

"I didn't go after those guys for some noble reason, Storm." Logan's voice was pitched low, tone angry and yet guilty at the same time. "I went after 'em because they had hurt me, plain and simple. Didn't even know what I was doing most of the time. I… I lost it." His voice became quieter, whispering the last words guiltily, his expression filled with self-reproach and shame. Storm was completely caught off guard.

"But if it hadn't been for you, I don't know if we could have made it out. We were very outnumbered with limited options. Your action caught them off guard and gave us the opportunity to…"

"Don't sugarcoat it, 'Ro," he snapped slightly, feeling bad about losing his temper with her, but also very touchy about the subject, in turns both ashamed and defensive. "I was brutal and bloodthirsty, without mercy. The only thought I can remember was just to hurt the bastards. I was an…" He seemed to think better of speaking further, huddling in on himself. Storm stared at Logan, feeling angry, but not with him.

"An animal, is that what you were going to say?" she asked softly, barely controlling the anger that wanted to make her voice harsh and accusing, feelings that were in no way directed at the feral. He flinched again, swallowing hard, but still refusing to meet her gaze. Oh, if only one could resurrect evil people so you could kill them again… Goddess give her the words. "Logan, please listen to me, and believe what I say, all right?" His hazel eyes darted over to her, looking much like an abused puppy in that moment; he was a creature desiring comfort and love but having trouble believing it was possible, or that he deserved it. With his attention on her, she spoke again, gentle eyes holding his skittish gaze. "Logan, you have the resources and abilities to react differently than other people, or even mutants, could. You were pushed, pushed beyond all realm of decency and compassion, to the point that your body ended up shutting down just to protect itself. That's what you did with the soldiers. You reacted instinctively to protect yourself and us. This is a part of you, a part that has helped you survive horrible experiences, to overcome them, and I don't want you to feel ashamed of that. We love you for who you are, Logan. Okay?" She raised one hand and stroked his whiskered cheek before pressing a quick kiss to the skin just above the facial hair, startling him into staring silence. Had she really just…?

"Hey Storm, how is he doing tod…" Jean sailed into the room and stopped short. "Oh Logan, you're awake!" She beamed at him, completely unaware of his shocked state as she moved closer and did a perfunctory examination. "Heartbeat is normal… well, for you," came the teasing analysis. "Skin color is good; overall diagnosis: patient is tired of laying around." Her cheerful tone made him grin a little. After all this time, she'd finally begun to realize how much he detested having medical treatment of any kind. He shook his head some, seeing both women smiling at him, feeling a little happier to be awake. And clean…? His body did smell fresher, now that he thought about it, although he still needed a haircut badly.

"Speaking of laying around, who can I thank for cleaning me up while I was out?" He waggled his eyebrows at Jean, unwilling to direct the playful flirting at Storm, not after that surprise peck on the cheek. He'd worry about that sweet little kiss later and just indulge in some harmless fun. The redhead laughed, eyes sparkling.

"Don't get your hopes up, Logan. You can thank Scott for the sponge bath." Logan made a face, pointedly ignoring her giggling.

"Now I _really_ feel sick…"


	15. A Past and a Future pt 15

Marie was chatting with her friends as they headed to supper, amused at some joke Bobby had just made. She was actually surprised to have found a group of kids who wanted to hang with her, as dangerous as she could be. It felt just like any regular school setting, really. Except the food was better. And the students could be way, way more destructive, even if it was usually accidental. As the bunch of them passed by the rec room, she caught a glimpse of an instantly recognizable profile, its owner seated on a couch just within sight of the entryway.

"Hey guys, you go on without me, I'll catch up in a minute." The group of them acknowledged her words.

"I'll save you a seat," Bobby promised with a smile as they moved on, leaving the hallway quiet again. She stood there, just watching the familiar form of her best friend, Logan, as he stared at something on the television. He had to know she was watching him, could feel her eyes on him, but he seemed to be ignoring it for some reason. Marie frowned slightly. His posture was tense, even slumped on the couch, an inability to relax she hadn't seen in him since they first came to the school together as stranded mutants who'd been helped by the X-men. It made her sad to think he'd reverted to old habits, old paranoia. She could understand, really; after all she lived his nightmares sometimes at night, herself. Well, they were flashbacks, really, which was even worse, because terrible things had been done to him. Were still being done to him. And it looked like he wasn't bouncing back emotionally as fast as she would have wanted, for his sake. White teeth worried at a lush lower lip. Kitty had told her quite a bit of what had happened at the base after the rescue team had gotten there, but only because she knew how close Rogue and Logan were. Marie didn't want to interrupt what was probably a rare moment of quiet, but she did have some good news she wanted to share.

"Hey Logan," she called out, not loudly at all, but with more than enough volume for him to catch, wanting to announce herself even if he knew she was there. He didn't appear surprised, of course, but he still didn't relax as she came in and curled up on the cushion next to him, legs tucked under her. There was a sports game on the television, and Logan's hazel eyes stared straight ahead at it, but she would swear he wasn't really watching. It suddenly occurred to Rogue that he hadn't eaten any meals with her in the past few days since he'd woken up, probably staying out of sight and grabbing something afterward, wolfing it down in the lunchroom or taking it back to his bedroom.

"Hey kid," he grunted softly, wanting to acknowledge her, but still feeling the strain of his recent captivity. He had definitely not been in a social mood lately, not even for her, and felt just a little guilty about it. Her light soap scent was pleasant, and he closed his eyes in appreciation of it; he didn't know if it was because she'd absorbed him a couple of times, but she never used scented products. That fact made her company all the more enjoyable, usually. Well, except for times like now, when he was more inclined to be alone. "Been doing good?" Logan never took his eyes from the game he was pretending to watch. He'd really just been killing time, looking busy so no one would bother him. He could just see her nod in his peripheral vision as she tilted sideways, ending with her cheek resting against his flannel-clad upper arm. She'd gained some height since they met, but was still very petite compared to his over six-foot, muscular frame. Logan remembered the last time they'd been in here, watching a movie with her snuggled up to him, eating popcorn. It seemed like a lifetime ago instead of a few weeks. What he wouldn't give to go back in time and change some things, mostly not going off by himself on a wild impulse to find out about his past. The feral swallowed hard, struggling to maintain an external normalcy he really didn't feel. Unaware of her friend's swirling thoughts, Marie sighed quietly in contentment. It was great to have Logan back again.

"Some stuff happened while you were gone," she said suddenly, startling Logan into looking at her. A brief thought crossed his mind that it was ironically just like old times. No matter what happened or how things changed, some things were constant. He had barely glanced down before snapping his gaze back to the program.

"Mm…?" was the noncommittal answer. Marie almost giggled. He wasn't one to be interested in school gossip. He would usually only pretend to listen because it was one way for her to spend time with him, and she knew it. It was actually really sweet.

"Yeah. Jubilee took her turn helping in the kitchen for movie night and accidentally shorted out the microwave. And we had a pretty nice field trip to the museum, even if it was mostly educational… Oh, and apparently there was some new medical equipment that came in, although I don't really know what for, but Ms. Grey was super excited…"

Logan let her voice wash over him, glad that she seemed happy at the school, but also disheartened that it appeared life could go on very well without him. Of course, all the kids had classes to attend, and schoolwork, and the school staff couldn't just drop everything. In truth, it had been a bit before they realized he wasn't staying away voluntarily. But still, life went on, that was the way of it. Caught up in his thoughts and her soft, lilting voice in the background, he didn't catch the whisper of cloth on skin and a shift in her position. It wasn't until he felt something, not something, but _skin_ , rubbing little circles on the back of his hand that he started and looked down, seeing her small, bare hand atop his. Hazel eyes widened and his gaze flew back up to meet her shy but pleased expression. There was nothing she had wanted more since he saved her life on Liberty Island than to be able to share close contact with her first true friend.

"Surprise, Logan. I've been working with the professor and I can control it for a couple of minutes or so. He's sure that with more time, I'll be able to control it completely." She saw a slow grin spread across his lips, the first smile she'd seen from him since his rescue, and it lightened her heart considerably.

"Congratulations Marie." Without thinking he pulled her into a hug, so proud of her that he couldn't say anything else because his throat had tightened with emotion. The gruff but sincere tone warmed her through, and Rogue returned the hug happily with slim arms around Wolverine's torso, glad to see him actually responsive for a change.

"Thanks! I was really looking forward to telling you, but I wanted you to have some space for a while." Logan smiled slightly at her thoughtfulness, in spite of the discomforting reminder of _why_ she would have wanted to allow him some time alone. She really was an amazing girl.

"'m proud of you, kid." A kiss was pressed to the top of her head and she squeezed him once more around the waist before letting go and tugging her glove back on.

"I'd better go have supper. See you around, Logan." He nodded with a smile, but as soon as she was gone it vanished. It would probably be a good idea to get some food himself, but he really wasn't that hungry yet. Nor did he want to expose himself to the stares and whispers that were sure to occur if he made an appearance around the kids. It was likely the story of his rescue was making its way through the school, in some form of truth or another, and probably more in the way of exaggeration than anything. Not that the kids meant anything bad; that was just the way of rumors. Logan's head dropped back to the couch, giving up the pretense of watching television as he sighed deeply. He knew he should be safe at the school now. The soldiers from Alkali Lake who had known about it, and knew that Wolverine lived there, were probably in the base when it flooded, so the school's secret was protected once more. But it was hard to stop the knee-jerk reaction to be hypervigilant again, like when he was moving from town to town on the fight circuit, only surviving and hardly living while on the run from some unknown entity that haunted him. And too, in spite of Storm's assurances, he still felt a little like an animal. Whether it was his instinctual behavior at being threatened, or some ingrained training from a long past captivity, it wouldn't leave him alone. Maybe he'd be safer at the school, but would the school be safer with him? Giving up the pretense, Logan turned off the TV with the remote and stood up, suddenly feeling bone-weary for no real reason other than he was just tired of _everything_. The loose plan was to go upstairs, down his bottle of whiskey, and maybe see if he could catch some sleep without having too many bad memories flood his subconscious. He didn't even pretend to want supper anymore; his appetite just wasn't there.


	16. A Past and a Future pt 16

Long-ish chapter, but figured I didn't want to break it up any further as thanks to those of you who have made my day (year) by viewing, favoriting, and commenting. Hope you enjoyed the story so far. I present the final part to A Past and a Future.

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Logan was in such a state of distraction that he didn't catch the telltale sounds and smells outside the rec room until he had almost collided with Jean and Scott, who were probably on their way to the dining hall. He came to a quick halt, reflexes saving the other two from the painful tumble that would have occurred if he'd actually knocked them over. Jean made a cute, startled squeak, and Scott had jerked in surprise before recovering.

"Hey, sorry," Logan muttered, unwilling to stick around and say anything more than that, especially after seeing Jean's arm twined with her fiancée's. Not that he was after Jeannie anymore, really, but… well, it had been a nice thought while it lasted. He still saw her as a very attractive woman, but that ship had sailed. Honestly, she had probably made the best choice for her, but it was still a bit of a blow to a man who couldn't remember having a bona fide intimate relationship in sixteen years. Logan snorted at himself mentally, instinctively trying to shore up his emotional defenses; he didn't need anyone, not really. His long legs propelled him several steps away from them before he came to a sudden stop, a thought occurring. Damn. Well, probably no better time than now. With what he was going to say, it would probably _never_ be a good time. "Oh, hey, Scott," he called out, turning around. The school's resident couple stopped walking, looking expectantly back at him. Logan did his best casual stroll up to them, feeling as awkward and uncomfortable as he ever could.

"What is it, Logan?" Scott seemed uncertain, probably wondering what he was gonna say in front of Jean. Not that riling him up wasn't always fun, but this was serious for a change.

"Uh…" Logan barely stopped himself from fidgeting, forcing himself to look right at the other's ruby-quartz covered gaze. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. About the motorcycle," he finally got out, sticking his hands in his back pockets just to have something to do with them. "It was a really great machine." Truthfully, Logan almost felt the loss just as keenly as Scott probably did. He'd ridden on it, knew it was a top of the line custom piece of mechanical art. When he realized it was probably rusting under acres of water at Alkali Lake, it had been like getting a kick in the gut. It was hard to tell when Cyclops was surprised from his expression alone, but his jaw dropped just for a second in true shock. That might have given the feral a good laugh, if he hadn't felt so truly guilty about his part in the motorcycle's fate.

"Oh…! Well, it is a shame, yeah," Scott said, looking slightly downcast for a moment. "But you were more important." He then reached out and gave the other man a gentle clap on the arm. Logan would have flinched at the unexpected contact, or maybe let out his claws, except the words had stunned him completely. What..? Scott seemed oblivious to his state of mind. "Well, food waits for no one, especially around here," he joked, making Jean laugh softly. "We'll see you around." The pair of them walked away, leaving Logan staring after them bemusedly. When they'd almost reached the dining hall, Jean gave Scott's arm a gentle squeeze.

"That was very nice, Scott," she said, looking up at him with a smile. He shrugged, giving her a small smile in return.

"Well, it's true. It's not like he meant for anything like that to happen. And… well, if I'm honest, we couldn't ask for a better teammate to back us up than him." Jean pulled him down for a quick kiss.

"That is one of the reasons why I love you," she told him. "And since we're being honest, I must say, I really think Logan needed to hear that at that exact moment. I've been worried about him." Scott nodded in agreement, placing his hand over hers in the crook of his elbow.

"We all have."

x_X_x

Logan made his way to the staff wing of the mansion where his bedroom was located, still off-kilter from the unexpected outcome of that conversation. He'd truly thought Scott would be pissed, or confrontational. Not… well, not acting as if he actually gave a damn about him. It was a nice feeling. Maybe they really had put the rivalry down for good. At least one good thing was finally happening in his life, that he could remember at least. With a shake of his head, Logan walked along the plush runner that deadened his footsteps, ready to hole up in his room for the rest of the night. Upon reaching his door he halted quickly, staring down at what appeared to be a small cardboard box filled with… something. More than one something, really. It was right in front of his door, with his name scrawled on it in what looked like crayon. The somethings in the box were folded pieces of construction paper, mostly brightly colored, with equally bright marker scribblings and pictures on them. Logan was fixed to the spot, completely flummoxed.

x_X_x

Ororo came out of her room, ready to head down to meet Scott and Jean for supper, when she saw Logan standing outside of his room. The quiet click of her door shutting didn't get his attention, and she gazed curiously at him. He didn't look any different, wearing a simple black tee and jeans with a deep green flannel shirt, but he seemed sort of rigid, caught up in looking at something on the floor. When she saw what had captured his attention, she couldn't help smiling. Ah, they had finally gotten them all together.

"Hello Logan," she said softly, not wanting to startle a distracted Wolverine. His hazel eyes turned to her, still filled with confusion, but at least looking pleased to see her.

"Oh, hey Storm." He smiled a little, then looked back at the strange box. Ororo was liked by everyone at the school, and they talked with her a lot. Maybe she knew what was going on here. "You know what this is all about?" he asked, gesturing loosely in the box's direction. He looked so perplexed that she had trouble stifling any outward show of amusement.

"Oh, yes, I do, actually. When word got out that you had been in trouble and were recovering down in the medical wing, Rogue volunteered to collect any offerings of support the children might want to give you. I believe those are your 'get well' cards. Rogue must have gathered up the last of them and dropped them off for you," she explained, maintaining a perfectly straight face, somehow, at his expression. He looked down at the box, one eyebrow arching, as if expecting it to explode, or jump up and bite him.

"For… me?" He looked back to her as she nodded. "Really?" Again, the urge to laugh had to be stifled, but it was easier seeing how completely this was taking him off guard, as if he'd never had anyone concerned about him before. Which was probably, and sadly, true, she reflected. He just didn't expect others to worry about him, and when they did, he met their concern with discomfort and biting remarks. These homemade cards from the children seemed to completely get around his usual defense, as he just stared at them. There looked to be dozens, and Ororo knew even some of the school staff had added their voice of support. Finally, Logan must have realized he'd been standing there doing nothing for a good five minutes, snapping back to himself with a little shake and glancing over at her with a chagrined expression. "Ah… guess I'd better get 'em inside my room." He followed that by bending and quickly picking up the box, still looking down wonderingly at its contents as his free hand reached for the knob and opened the door, allowing him to step inside. Storm leaned against the doorjamb while he placed the box onto the chest of drawers against one wall, the light shafting from the hallway providing the only illumination.

"Believe it or not, Logan, you are liked around here, even if you don't want to be," she said, smiling to take any sting out of the words. True, he'd settled down some since living at the mansion, but the feral still had a tendency to not join in group activities, preferring to watch from the sidelines as the students and staff enjoyed cookouts, pool parties, and celebrations of all sorts. That was probably another reason Rogue felt so close to him: he tended to keep her company during these get-togethers, since she held herself apart voluntarily to minimize accidental touching. Logan was just about the only other mutant at the school who appeared to not worry about that at all. But with her burgeoning ability to control the pull of her power on contact, it was a matter of time until she could join in with the others and be a normal teenager. Storm then hoped that, with enough time and patience, both of their loners would feel more comfortable around the rest of the school.

"I don't know why," came a gruff voice from the dim interior, and Ororo started slightly, caught up in her own inner monologue. It took a second for her to recall what she'd said that he was responding to, and she pursed her lips in exasperation at the honesty in Logan's tone. He really didn't think of himself as someone people would like, outside of those who saw his usefulness as a weapon, or saw other less scientific uses for him, like the women he might have encountered at those bare-knuckle fights Rogue had mentioned one day. In their first meeting, and some of Logan's dredged up memories, the girl had seen the mutant fighter being ogled by several 'ladies', and she had definitely used the term loosely, raptly watching the altercation inside the cage. Storm sighed, prepared to make her case.

"Let's see…" She held up a hand and began ticking off fingers. "Well, there's the fact that you're easy on the eyes. Many of the female students have a crush," she told him with a teasing wink. She couldn't quite see him roll his eyes in the dark, but the posture was very much there in the way his head tilted briefly. He couldn't hide the flash of smirk that showed teeth though as she at least got a rueful chuckle out of him. "You make them feel safe," she continued, ignoring the way he jerked at the statement. Safe…? How the hell could they feel safe when he was more dangerous than Marie, with a wellspring of rage that just wouldn't quit? "That's because you did help protect the school, Logan," her train of thought continued, thankfully unaware of his mental dialogue. "They seem to think you're some kind of unbeatable warrior, after hearing about what happened last year." The memory of how that group of mutant haters had used him to find the school made him grit his teeth a little, but he forced a laugh and a confidence he wasn't quite feeling at the moment.

"That's because I am." She huffed softly, ignoring his teasing jab, and continued.

"You have the respect of everyone here." Logan made an obvious sound of disbelief at that, and Ororo grinned, knowing exactly who the feral was thinking about. "Come on, he has gotten better, admit it." Broad shoulders rolled in a shrug as Logan recalled the conversation with Scott only minutes ago. Well… She smiled again at his nod of reluctant agreement. "There's quite a lot to respect, in my opinion. But as I've seen it, the majority respect you for your ability to fight, but others, I know, see you as someone to look up to." She didn't miss his slight shift in stance that telegraphed his disagreement with the idea. So he didn't want kids to see him as a role model? Tough, he was already there. She kept going. "You're very, very loyal. Even though you weren't sure about us, or staying here, you committed. And once you do that, I know you can be counted on. You don't let us down, Logan," she said softly, trying to peer through the dim room to see his face. He'd turned a little away so only his profile showed, but he seemed to be listening, head slanted in her direction. "See how much there is to like about you?" Logan peered sideways at her, the light coming in from the hall making a halo around her snowy hair.

"Well, I suppose if I'm as great as all that, then…" He let the sentence trail off, unable to help the little grin appearing on his lips. It somehow made hm feel almost worthy, having Ororo say all those things about him. She believed it too, because he could detect no falsehood coming from the weather witch, and that made the bolt hit home for him. He had a home. He even had a family here, he just hadn't realized it before. Storm laughed and shook her head at his teasing statement.

"Don't let it go to your head," she told him dryly, but laughter was still evident in her sparkling eyes, obvious to him even in the gloom he was surrounded by. He suddenly didn't want to be alone in darkness anymore, wanted to step toward the light in the hall and the light that Storm seemed to represent in that moment. She must have seen a shift in his posture or something, because she cocked a hand on her hip and spoke again. "Logan, would you like to come down and eat with us? Everyone will be glad to see you." The invitation was there, within easy reach if he'd only take it. He rocked forward on the ball of one foot, hesitated, and then took that step, moving toward the doorway, and her.

"I think I'd like that," he admitted, aware of a hint of hunger in his belly, the first sense of appetite he'd had for days. She smiled brightly and took his arm in hers in a companionable way, and that simple, trusting gesture was his undoing. He felt moisture sting his eyes and looked away from her quickly, knowing she had to have seen it. The white-haired woman by his side studiously ignored his discomfort and pretended to admire the artwork on the walls as if she hadn't seen anything, making him grateful for her understanding. He'd gotten himself under control by the time they reached the stairs heading down, swiping the dampness from his face and putting on his most stony expression. Wouldn't want to give anyone a heart attack by seeing the relaxed grin that wanted to cover his lips. He might never know who he had been, or where he came from, but maybe he was okay with that. Somewhere out there was a past that belonged to him, but it occurred to Logan that he didn't need it anymore. In this place, with these people, he had a future. And damned if that wasn't the best thing to come along in his crazy life.

The End


End file.
